To the Shock of Miss Grace
by Edicts Galore
Summary: Grace's family moved away from Santa Carla when she was a little girl. After life altering news, Grace makes the painful decision to return to her hometown. The town is nothing like it was aside from a rash of disappearances. Meeting a mysterious guy fond of dusk and mind games is the least of her problems. Or is it? Marko/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

 **Santa Carla, 1986**

The house was full of bright summer light only the California sun was able to deliver. Voices low and urgent argued back and forth from the depths of the house. My parents banished me from the living room in hopes I couldn't hear. I heard everything from my place on the sun porch.

I leaned against the sash of an open window breathing in the tang of salt air carrying traces of cotton candy and Mom's prize peonies. I watched cars driving by. Most packed with families I suspected were headed to the boardwalk.

' _Stan, I don't want to leave! What about my parents?'_ The quaking of my mother's voice relayed her fear more eloquently than she probably thought.

Dad was quiet for several minutes. _'Christ, Janet! Your parents are retired. They can join us. I have the chance to work for the Denver Police Department. I won't get the opportunity again if I turn the job down.'_

My stomach was knotted up. Confrontation always made me feel like I was going to puke.

' _My parents don't want to live in a place that snows three feet or more and is freezing half the year!'_

' _Look – people are_ _ **dying**_ _! Do you think all those disappearances are just coincidence? Open your damn eyes. Maybe you don't mind taking chances with Gracie's life but I do. Half the missing are under twelve just like our daughter.'_

I just celebrated my ninth birthday last month. One of my presents was a small canister of mace and Dad giving me lessons on how to use it. Every night on the news face after face of the missing flashed across the TV screen. Mom walked me back and forth to school for fear I might join the ranks of the kids no one could find.

Mom released a little sob. _'Fine!'_ Footsteps pounded along the hardwood floor before a door slammed so hard the windows rattled ominously around me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat before burying my face in my arms.

The smell of the _Old Spice_ I bought Dad for Christmas surrounded me in the instant before his large warm hands closed on my shoulders. "Are you okay, honey?"

Peeking up at him, I gave a curt nod.

Stanley Martin was a patrolman for the Santa Carla Police Department. He was tall with a strong body and a dimple in his left cheek. Gray eyes the color of fog rolling in from Monterey Bay cut to the quick while catching people off guard and disarming them. We had the same eyes but I had Mom's light ash brown hair instead of Dad's sun-kissed surfer blond.

He smiled and the dimple flashed at me. "You heard us, huh?"

"Yes."

Dad's expression turned sad before he pulled me into his arms. "I know your mother sounded angry but everything is going to be just fine. What do you think of the idea? Colorado will have snow and skiing…"

My nose scrunched.

Jenny Torres from next door had moved with her family from Boston. She hated the snow and cold.

"But we won't have the ocean."

He flashed a sympathetic look at me. "I know but there will be beautiful mountains."

I didn't want to move. Seeing the hope in Dad's eyes, I forced a smile. "Does that mean we can go hiking?"

Laughing, Dad hugged me so tight I couldn't tell where he started and I left off. "We'll go every weekend the weather is good. I promise!"

* * *

Mom was a petite woman with a wild mane of hair that reached her waist and smoky brown eyes capable of turning men into babbling idiots. She was a beauty and Janet Martin knew how to use the gift to her advantage. She dressed up anytime we left the house.

On this evening it was no different.

She also had a flare for fashion and was dismayed with her only child's penchant for tomboy clothes and my talent for casual dishevelment.

Mom scooted out of the car and sighed as she opened the passenger door for me. While she was dressed in a lemony cotton sundress and matching heels – I had on a pair of denim overalls with a pale blue t-shirt underneath. Worse than the denim was the fact the knees were dirty and my hair had resolutely escaped the painstaking French braid she created earlier that morning.

"Grace you look awful," she huffed before scrubbing at a smear of dust on my cheek. "Be good and don't cause a problem in the store. I have to tell Max I'm giving notice."

I looked up at her as she took my hand firmly in hers. "What's notice?"

Mom smiled. "I have to quit my job so giving Max notice is telling him how long I can work before we move. It's the polite thing to do so he can hire someone to help him."

My shoulders lifted in a shrug as we entered the video store.

The lights in the store were so bright after coming in from semi-darkness I blinked before rubbing my eyes with a free hand. There was a crowd so I pressed against my mother. Loud voices and happy laughter greeted me.

Max was tall as a giant to my eyes. A kind man with dark hair and large glasses, he bantered easily with customers. Tonight he wore a green and white sports jacket with slacks. He smiled broadly when he caught sight of Mom.

"Janet!" He stooped down and greeted her with a peck on the cheek. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Mom smiled and squeezed his hand while using the other hand to stroke my hair. "I have some bad news, I'm sorry to say."

A deeply concerned expression flashed over the man's face. "Is everything all right with Stan?"

She sighed. "Stan accepted a job in Denver. We're moving in two weeks. I can only give you a one week notice. I need to pack up before the movers arrive. Please accept my apology. You've been a wonderful boss and I feel awful…"

Mom had worked at VideoMax for almost a year and constantly sang Max's praises.

"Please don't apologize," he interrupted with warmth and relief in his voice. "Stan has expressed his distaste to me for the Santa Carla crime rate. I can't say I'm surprised he took action." Max glanced at me before pulling free a hot pink lollipop from a jar holding a rainbow of the candies. "Here you are Grace."

I accepted the candy. "Strawberry?"

He chuckled. "I would never dare cheat you."

Mom glanced at the crowd before looking down at me. "You can look around while I talk to Max but don't leave the store."

"Okay," I walked away twirling the lollipop stick between my fingers.

Movies were good but I liked playing outside or reading more.

I walked over to a display of Disney VHS tapes near the door. My lips curled in disgust as Cinderella's smiling face came into view. "Ugh! She is a stupid princess just running around waiting for some prince to save her!"

"What's wrong with Cinderella wanting a prince to help her out?"

The friendly, teasing quality of the male voice caught my attention.

I looked up out of the corner of my eye only to find a figure towering over me.

The young man looking down at me was older than a teenager but loads younger than my parents. He had curly, dirty blond hair short in the front but long in the back. A pair of sharp ocean-colored eyes watched me closely even as a sneaky grin lit up his face.

"She's a wussy," I informed him with great seriousness. "A girl should be able to take care of herself."

He arched one eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

Enthusiasm was rising inside me like an incoming tide. "Well duh! If I was Cinderella, I'd kick my ugly stepsisters in the shin."

His eyes widened and he stifled a chuckle behind his gloved hand. He cleared his throat before speaking. "You're a scrappy kid," He hooked his thumbs in his belt. "Do you have a name?"

I pointed my lollipop at him. "Mom said I can't give my name to strangers."

He leaned forward and held out a hand. "I'm Marko."

My eyes rested on his hand before returning to his face.

"I'm not a stranger now," Marko pronounced; a sparkle in his eye.

There was logic in his argument.

Chewing my bottom lip, I glanced at my mother. She and Max were deep in conversation. I took Marko's hand. "My name is Grace." I shivered at the cold of his fingers; they felt like ice cubes.

Marko squeezed my hand before letting me go and straightening once more. "See Grace, I'm not such a bad guy."

"I like your jacket." And I did – it was covered with brightly hued, multiple patches. Some of the symbols and pictures I didn't understand, but I did see it as artwork. "It's like a painting I saw at a museum in San Francisco."

Genuine pleasure spread over Marko's face.

Before he could reply, Max's voice thundered across the store shattering the moment. "Marko," Max was glaring daggers at the younger man. "I told you not to come in here. I meant it."

Marko's expression turned cold; his eyes narrowed. He curled his lip before slowly backing away. Reaching out, he yanked open the door and barreled through nearly knocking over several patrons on the threshold.

He stalked away and I watched until he disappeared around the corner.

A hand grabbed me by the shoulder whipping me around to face my very angry mother. "How many times have I told you not to talk to strangers?"

My face burned with embarrassment as people stopped and looked at us.

Max reached out and touched her shoulder. "It's not Grace's fault, Janet. She's just a little girl."

Mom relented. "Come on, honey. Your father is going to be waiting for us." She smiled at Max again. "Thank you again for your many kindnesses."

He nodded and cleared his throat. "Well I must be getting back to the customers. Have a safe journey."

A part of me was sad as I followed Mom to the car; unwrapped lollipop engulfed in my fist.

* * *

Two weeks later we were driving away.

The weather was beautiful and warm with a pale blue, cloudless sky. Our station wagon was stuffed with suitcases we didn't want to entrust to the moving company. My orange tabby cat, Angel, meowed from beside me and my parents chatted in the front seat while James Taylor crooned _Fire and Rain_ over the radio.

I leaned one elbow against the car door and cupped my cheek.

My eyes grew wide as we arrived at the welcome sign.

The back of the sign was facing us and it was covered in colorful graffiti proclaiming Santa Carla _Murder Capital of the World_. Memories of all the missing posters danced in my head.

Dad gave a disgusted snort. "Good riddance to bad rubbish!"

I pulled Angel into my arms and hugged her tight. For the first time I was happy to be leaving my hometown. Maybe the snow and cold wouldn't be so bad.

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** Obviously I don't own the Lost Boys but I thought I better state it somewhere in the story. Also this is an AU where the Emerson family never moved to Santa Carla.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: I wanted to dedicate this story to my late friend and fellow writer Daniella Blue. She passed from cancer in 2015 and is sorely missed. Not only was she a wonderful human being, she was fearless and lived life to the fullest. May we all be so courageous._

* * *

 **Denver, CO**

 **Summer, 2016**

"Did you bring family or a friend?"

I shifted in my seat. "No, I didn't."

Dr. Elisabeth Ross leaned her elbows against the gigantic desk between us. The windows behind her showcased a breathtaking view of the Rocky Mountains. A hint of _Chanel No 5_ drifted toward me as the air conditioning kicked on.

Concern shaded her features. "I think it would be best to have another meeting when you are able to bring a member of your support system…"

"With all due respect my parents are divorced. Mom left years ago and my Dad retired to Florida last year." I knew it was rude to interrupt but the last thing I needed was bullshit heaped on me at this point. "I can handle this on my own."

She stared at me over the rim of her glasses. "Are you certain?"

A shiver racked my frame even as I nodded.

Drawing a deep breath, Dr. Ross nodded. "The blood tests came back. I'm afraid the news is not good. You have leukemia, Grace. We have completed a significant round of tests and you are in Stage Three."

I folded in on myself like a sunflower closing up when faced with twilight. My arms wrapped over my middle as numbness settled over me. "I…" Shaking my head, I met her gaze head on. "How many stages are there?"

She managed a smile; it was more practiced than honest. "There are four stages in dealing with cancer."

A ringing began in my ears. "This is bad."

"Yes," Dr. Ross stated with kindness. "I think it is important to discuss treatment options. There are several ways we could go. Chemotherapy and radiation are a must but we also can look into gene therapy or a bone marrow transplant."

My heart quaked with palpitations. Coldness infiltrated my gut even as my mouth went dry. "Please be honest. What are my chances?"

She paused and I _knew_.

"Grace you have an aggressive, virulent form of leukemia." Dr. Ross never looked away from my gaze. "Without equally aggressive treatment the odds are not in your favor."

"How long?" My throat was so tight it hurt to speak.

Dr. Ross' hands began smoothing the closed file in front of her. "Without treatment, you have six months to a year." She frowned. "If you start chemotherapy and radiation we can double that time."

I raised a trembling hand to my mouth.

She reached for the phone. "We have a counselor on hand…"

"No!" The sharpness of my voice was like a crack of thunder. "I don't need a counselor!"

"I beg to differ," Dr. Ross stated in a calm, powerful voice. "You've just received terrible news, Grace. Let us help you!"

Shoving my body up out of the chair, I grabbed my purse and slung it across my chest. "No. I need some time to think about all of this." My knees were painfully stiff as I walked toward the door. "I'll get back to you when I make a decision."

Before Dr. Ross could respond, I shut the door in my wake.

Phones rang as I stumbled past the office manager and the receptionist. One woman stood and I gave a curt wave as I passed by. Three patients sat in the waiting room. Only one looked up at me. He turned red in the face when our eyes locked.

The moment I closed the door behind me, I started running.

* * *

My appointment with Dr. Ross was on Friday. I spent the next two days curled up in my bed with the blinds closed and the covers pulled up to my chin. Lost between sleep and prolonged bouts of crying, my eyes were almost swollen shut when Monday morning finally arrived.

Standing under the bright fluorescence of the bathroom lights, I splashed water on my face.

"Oh shit," I murmured.

My hair was a frizzed mess, my skin blotchy, and my eyes looked as though I'd been punched.

A sigh escaped me before I set to work.

Within an hour I was dressed and on my way to the office.

Work was my life… ironic at some point I wouldn't be able to continue.

Suddenly, I had to pee. I dashed past the front desk for the bathroom.

Ellie stared at me with her mouth hanging open.

She was waiting for me when I emerged from the restroom. "Oh my god! You look terrible, Grace!"

"I'm fine," I edged around her and headed for my office.

Ellie matched her stride to mine. "You don't seem fine."

Giving her a shrug, I stepped over the threshold and grabbed hold of the door. "Honestly, I'm fine." I felt slightly guilty for closing the door in Ellie's face but I was in no mood to talk.

An hour later I was digging through sales reports and fielding phone calls. Most people thought working in an art gallery was fun and games. Few had any idea the job was as cut throat as it gets. Dealing with bitchy artists, self-righteous co-workers, and snooty clientele made up the majority of my day.

A sharp rap sounded before my door swung wide open.

"Ellie tells me you are feeling poorly…" Gus Halderman stopped dead in his tracks. "Grace you look like hell!"

"Gee thanks."

Gus owned the gallery. He was tall and wide with a penchant for dressing like a cowboy. He shoved back his large hat before pulling the door closed. "What the hell happened to you?"

I leaned against my desk. "Bad news."

His bushy eyebrows arched high. "What kind of bad news?"

Sharing my diagnosis was not what I wanted to do. I scrubbed my face with both hands before releasing a gusting breath. "I… I have cancer."

Gus gawped at me – looking remarkably like a beached goldfish. "Ah shit! Grace, I'm sorry."

"Me too," I gestured to the chair across from my desk and he obediently folded his body to fit. "I want to run something by you."

He gave me a quick, jerky nod. "Yeah, of course! Feel free to unload on me. I've got some broad shoulders."

I reached out and closed my laptop before placing my phone on hold. Then and only then did I turn my attention to Gus. "I didn't start out as an office manager. I started out as a starving art student."

Gus gave a low chuckle. "As I recall you were not fond of the starvation part." He grew serious. "Damn shame you gave up the wheel."

"Pottery doesn't sell," I replied.

"Bullshit," Gus responded. "Pottery sells when the artist is talented and you had talent."

A smile crossed my mouth. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. I spent the weekend thinking about my life. More precisely what I haven't done." I started drumming my fingers against the desk. "I had goals: practice my art, fall in love, and travel the world. I blew it, Gus."

He shook his head. "That's not true. You still have time."

"Not as much as I'd like." The words were raw, slicing deep into my soul.

Gus studied me a moment. "Tell me what you're thinking."

My plan was risky – one false step and I'd end up spending what little was left of my life in a homeless shelter. "I'm quitting." Gus nodded thoughtfully yet allowed me to continue. "The happiest time in my life was as a kid. I have a call into my accountant. What I want to do is cash in my IRA and CD accounts. With the money I'm going to move to California."

"What will you do there?"

I gave a half-shrug. "My plan is to find a small space with a lot of light where I can get back to the wheel."

Gus gave me a sad smile. "I wish you the best of luck. When are you leaving?"

"As soon as I hear back from Patty about my finances," I was chagrined at the thought of leaving Gus high and dry. "I'm sorry about not giving you proper notice…"

He waved me off before standing. "Don't worry about it, Grace. Time is of the essence. Promise me we'll have dinner before you leave."

"I promise."

Gus nodded and left.

Sadness filled me swiftly followed by the knowledge Gus was right.

 _Time_ _ **is**_ _of the essence._

* * *

"Are you _insane_?!" Jessica hissed through her fake smile as her eyes darted around the crowded bar. "Grace you can't up and leave everything you know! Not at a time like this!"

I let my fingertips trail across the lip of my margarita glass – the combination of colored sugar and coarse salt sticky. Jessica Whiteside had been my best friend since Dad moved our family to Denver. We attended school together, graduated together, roomed together in an apartment the size of a thimble.

She raked her fingers through her cap of ginger curls. "Damn it, Grace, you should have talked to me before committing financially to this move."

I picked up my glass and toasted her before sipping the melon margarita it held. "This stuff tastes god awful."

Jessica's brown eyes narrowed. She pointed a finger at me. "Don't change the subject." I raised one eyebrow and she snorted. "I tried to tell you the melon flavor tastes like kool aid and floor polish."

Shrugging, I set aside the glass and rested my chin on my palm. "Look, I know what I want. I've spent my life a straight-laced coward, Jess. I threw away my chance at an art career for security."

She reached out and snagged my hand; squeezing it tightly. "Security isn't such a bad thing, Grace. The job with Gus paid for your food and apartment."

"It's not just my career," I listened to the dull buzz of the bar around us. "I mean my entire life. Do you know since I moved to Colorado the furthest I've traveled is Taos? What happened to me, Jess? I wanted to move back to California, open my own shop, and travel the world."

Jessica's mouth tightened even as her eyes grew wet. "Stay here and get treatment. All of the things you want will still be waiting. You'll be healthy…"

"No," I stated gently. "I'll be dead."

She pulled her hand from mine before draining her Cosmopolitan. "A hundred thousand dollars is not a lot of money these days. California is very expensive."

I smiled at her. "For the first time in my life I feel like I'm headed in the right direction. Patty told me if worse comes to worse I can cash in my life insurance policy. I need to do this, Jess."

Jessica nodded and wiped away her tears. "At least I'll be able to visit and stay in a real beach house, right?"

I simply nodded.

* * *

 _Two weeks later…_

The idea of driving from Colorado to Santa Carla was charming – the logistics not so much.

In Denver I was able to walk everywhere I needed to go. So I never bought a car. Though I possessed a driver's license for identification purposes, I hadn't driven in over ten years.

I flew from Denver to San Jose. Two hours later I arrived in Santa Carla by bus.

The air was balmy with the familiar saltiness I remembered from childhood. I drew in deep breaths and smiled up at the sun. Gathering my bags, I found a cab. Instead of heading to the B & B I went instead to my real estate agent's office.

 _Schillman & Sons_ had a stellar reputation.

The air conditioning was almost clammy compared to the breeze just outside. Stepping into the office, I struggled with my suitcases. The smell of sardines was so thick in the air; my hands flew to cover my mouth and nose.

My luggage crashed to the floor.

Three heads instantly turned in my direction with baffled expressions. All speaking stopped and a solitary phone trilled over and over. Despite the light, bright atmosphere the stink of the fish and the old-fashioned furniture made me question retaining these people.

A man old enough to be my great-grandfather in a pale blue suit that looked like a leftover from the 1970's adjusted his bright pink bow tie. He strolled over and offered his hand. "Hello my dear, I am Sheldon Shillman." His smile was bright and friendly. "You must be Grace Martin."

I nodded and offered him one hand. "Yes," I muttered from beneath the other hand. "Sorry about the racket."

The other two men had returned to their computers and phones.

Mr. Shillman bent and helped me with the bags. "No problem, Miss Martin. Please step over to my desk…"

The mere thought of spending another moment in the fishy, tainted air made the gorge rise in my throat. "Is there any way we can just go look at a few places?"

The old man's brow hiked up to his toupee. "That would be most irregular. We have quite a bit of paperwork to get through."

"Please?"

The plea was successful.

Mr. Shillman studied me a moment before releasing a sigh. "I'll bring the paperwork with me. If we see anything you like at least we'll be prepared."

"I'll just wait outside," I stated before fleeing out the door dragging my bags.

* * *

It was nearly sunset and half a dozen properties later when Mr. Shillman and I pulled into the parking lot of what looked like a small cottage. The building was covered in buff-colored stucco with a terracotta tile roof. Bright scarlet shutters and a matching door gave off a homey, welcoming feeling.

I glanced at Mr. Shillman. "Are there living quarters?"

"Unfortunately no," he responded as he unlocked the door. "In the back of the establishment there is a lovely restroom and a very nice eat-in kitchen but no true living space."

My breath was taken the moment I stepped through the door.

Terracotta tile floors warmed up a space painted a stark shade of white. The walls were lined with rich walnut shelving. There was more than enough room for display cases and a cash register. Large windows let in copious amounts of light.

A tug in the vicinity of my heart told me all I needed to know.

"How much is the lease?"

Mr. Shillman grinned broadly. "We are located north of the historic center and the rent here is very reasonable. Thirty-two hundred a month which includes electric, heat, central ac, garbage removal, and pest control treatments monthly. Water and sewer will be your responsibility and with the water crisis I suggest you be very conservative."

I held out my hand. "Done."

We shook and he rifled through his briefcase for the requisite paperwork.

The entire block was made up of similar style buildings… except the building at the far end of the street.

I leaned against the windowsill and stared at the black sheep of the block. Amidst a flurry of feel good businesses like a florist, landscaper, antique shop, day spa, and catering business was this simple concrete hulk. The building kept the color scheme of the neighboring structures but instead of wood or stucco it was crafted of steel and concrete. There were only a couple of thin, modernistic slits for windows with a wide, solid steel door marking with a neon _No Trespassing_ sign and a high chain link fence surrounding the property.

"What sort of business is at the end of the block?"

Mr. Shillman shuffled over with the contract and pen in hand. He gazed out the window and his face darkened a moment. "Oh that's the Smith brothers shop. Don't worry about them. They create customer motorcycles complete with detailing. You'll never see those guys."

I raised one eyebrow at his absolute certainty. "Why?"

He licked a finger and began flipping pages on the contract; jotting his initials here and there. "Hmm? Oh the Smith boys only work at night. I assume you'll be long gone by the time they show. Some nights they don't work at all. Being independently wealthy must be a wonderful thing."

I gave a murmur of agreement before taking the contract and pen from Mr. Shillman. Shrugging off the unease, I slapped the contract against the wall and began signing. "I'd like to pay the first six months in advance." Doing so would take a chunk out of my savings but I was uncertain how long my health would hold out. At least having half the lease paid would ease my burden if life hit the toilet.

Mr. Shillman looked delighted. "I won't say no."

We both chuckled.

The moment I handed back the contract, Mr. Shillman hurried around the shop putting away his papers. He kept glancing toward the windows. "I think we should get going. You can drop off the deposit check tomorrow."

"What about my living situation?"

Mr. Shillman looked startled. "I don't work after dark, Miss Martin." He sported a tight, blatantly false smile. "My age wears on me heavier with each passing year. The nightlife is for the young. We can tour some residential properties in the morning."

"Okay," I smiled to ease the tension and followed the older man outside.

After locking up, he ushered me into his Cadillac. Once we were back on the road Mr. Shillman turned toward me. "Where are you staying? I'll drop you off."

I gave him the address of the bed and breakfast. It was a quaint little Victorian on the eastside of town; renowned for pristine beaches and wealthier residents. With a promise to pick me up for breakfast, Mr. Shillman gunned it out of the B & B parking lot.

A fine cloud of dust settled over me.

I coughed and sputtered while waving frantically to clear the air. "Damn! He acts like he has the devil on his ass."

The sun was just sinking over the ocean as I gathered my bags and headed inside.

I stopped on the threshold and looked out over the water.

A once deep blue body of water now appeared like a bloody maw swallowing the light.

My body shivered at the thought.

 _Blood… I hate blood._

* * *

 ** _Thank you to Chantal, LostInSantaCarla3, Lizzie, emilyatd1321 for reviewing and to Lykae'Sky, theelderhyme, yuki420 for listing the story as a favorite._**


	3. Chapter 3

_I'm touched by the response to this story. Thank you for reviewing: Lykae'Sky, Lizzie, IsabelleBrown, J. Berry Smith, Guest, Chantal, ZoopBooper, DepartedLies, LostInSantaCarla3, and Lyanna L! Thanks also to J. Berry Smith and DepartedLies for making the story a favorite and JakkiiSukaru, DepartedLies, and ABCdeath123 for following._

* * *

Just as promised Mr. Shillman picked me up early. We ended up at a small, busy diner about three blocks north of the boardwalk. The place was crowded with everyday folks eating and drinking and just enjoying one another's company. My parents had come to eat here weekly though I hadn't been invited since it was date night.

I wondered if it looked the same as it had back then.

My attention was drawn back to the menu I held.

I was determined whatever time I had left was going to be awesome. Pre-diagnosis my life revolved around Gus' gallery, exercise, and stringent veganism. Not one bit of flesh or cheese or any animal product crossed my lips. Sugar? Forget about it! Health nut didn't cover the militant attitude I sported.

Post-diagnosis Grace was going to live a totally different life: artsy, fun, willing to try new things, and eat whatever I freaking felt like eating. A few extra pounds weren't going to kill me.

 _Smirk!_

The waitress appeared. She was a middle-aged woman with strawberry blonde hair, a pleasant face, and a killer figure. Smiling, she flipped open her order pad and pulled a pen from her apron. "Good morning folks. I'm Sherry. What can I get for you?"

Mr. Shillman chuckled. "Ladies first."

Sherry glanced in my direction. "What'll it be, honey?"

"I want the buttermilk pancake short stack, a side of bacon, and a slice of the apple cinnamon coffee cake."

Mr. Shillman sported an expression close to a man being kicked in the crotch. He swiftly raised the menu blocking his face from view.

Sherry seemed nonplussed by my order; her hand flying as she wrote. "Anything to drink or do you want tap water?"

"A cup of black coffee please."

"Good enough," Sherry turned to Mr. Shillman. "How about you, hon?"

"I'd like a rye bagel with cream cheese and smoked salmon and a cup of Earl Grey."

Sherry nodded and disappeared as quickly as she'd arrived.

Mr. Shillman relaxed in his seat and smiled. "So what type of property are you looking for? I have a couple of very cute houses and some condos near the University of California at Santa Carla."

Sherry reappeared with my coffee and Mr. Shillman's tea.

The minute she left, I picked up the cup and sipped. "I have to be honest Mr. Shillman. I don't have enough money to buy a home."

"We also offer some lovely rental properties," he continued with enthusiasm. "How much are you looking to spend?"

"No more than a thousand a month."

The smile dropped from Mr. Shillman's face leaving him with a flabbergasted expression. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I thought you said a thousand a month."

"I did."

Mr. Shillman cleared his throat. "Times have changed a great deal since you lived in Santa Carla. We have many new Silicon Valley millionaires from Los Gatos moving to Santa Carla. They've bought up so much property and restored it the cost of housing has skyrocketed. A thousand back in the eighties would have procured oceanfront and in the nineties a huge apartment with great amenities. But not anymore… now you'll be lucky to find a rat trap motel that allows monthly guests for a grand a month."

My mouth fell open. "Are you serious?"

"Deathly, I'm sorry to say."

I took another long drink of the coffee. "I need to be careful with my money. Starting a business is no guarantee I'll be successful. Can you take me to the cheapest place you offer?"

* * *

My mouth fell open so far I expected the pain of dislocation of the jaw.

Mr. Shillman jumped out of the car and jauntily opened my car door. "Here we are! Paradise Acres at the Point! There are fifty-two units and only this one is available for rent. Fifteen hundred dollars a month rent which includes your utilities aside from water."

I blinked.

In front of me was a well maintained mobile home from the 1960's with a bed of fountain grass and birds of paradise flowers ringing the front. Lush trees and hedges separated the lots giving a sense of privacy that was unexpected.

"This is a trailer park."

Maybe this made me a snob, but living in a trailer park was not my dream.

Mr. Shillman stopped dead and his eyebrows began to rise. "Miss Martin this park is high end. We have clientele fighting to get in. You see that guy?" He pointed toward a nearby trailer.

The mobile home was newer than the model I was being offered. A man in bright yellow boxer shorts, a white wife beater, and fluffy blue terrycloth robe with scruffy facial hair and a shiny bald head was standing on his front porch reading the newspaper. He looked like a real slob.

"I see him."

Mr. Shillman grinned at my tone of voice. "He is a former internist from San Francisco."

My dubious expression must have spoken volumes because he cleared his throat and quickly elaborated, "Dr. Aronsky is retired. He suffered an embarrassment and bout of medical malpractice. Still, he is a doctor."

The park was scrupulously cared for…

"I'm willing to take a look."

He smiled. "All the mobile homes have been renovated in the last three years. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."

To my shock Mr. Shillman was right.

The interior was lovely with dark hardwoods, neutral pale gray walls, and a modern kitchen complete with granite countertops. I found the furniture comfortable and new along with a clean, crisp tiled bathroom with two bedrooms.

Mr. Shillman was waiting for me wearing a small smile in the living room. "What do you think?"

"How far are we from the beach?"

"Two blocks," he answered. "And there is a bus stop only five minutes north."

Driving was not on my to-do list.

I glanced around once more. "I'll take it."

* * *

Another week passed before my supplies arrived: a kiln, pottery wheel, clay, glazes, and tools.

Part of the shop I styled into a store and the back half I turned into the studio. Until I had merchandise to sell I spent my time getting back to my craft. The first three days were a haze of frustration and dismal failures.

Life became a blur of Frosted Flakes, too much coffee, and gut-churning frustration.

I paced, arms folded over my stomach, staring at misshapen vases. Frustrated, I smashed one particularly egregious failure.

Mr. Shillman was almost like a prophet. He was absolutely correct that I'd never meet the mysterious Smith brothers. Since I rode the bus, I made damn sure to keep an eye on the time. Paying for a taxi or Uber ride was _not_ happening. The bus made their last pick up down the street from my shop at 6pm sharp ergo I left every day at 5:45pm.

The fourth day was different from the previous three.

I had my first success: a simple vase with a fluted rim.

A happy dance ensued followed by a realization… I was going to need help to man the shop once I had enough merchandise to sell. Most shops in Santa Carla stayed open past 6pm. My work required light so coming in super early was on the agenda. Staying up all night? Nope!

Grabbing my coffee cup from the nearby shelf, I leaned against the windowsill and smiled as the sun spilled in over me.

I had no idea my luck was about to turn to shit.

The solitary bell jingled over the front door.

I looked up and was confronted by a skinny kid about seventeen. He was dressed in dirty, baggy jeans with a black hoodie. His eyes darted nervously from side to side. A greasy mass of brown hair was plastered to his head. The kid looked like he hadn't bathed in a couple weeks.

Instantly my stomach sank like a stone.

My phone was in the break room at the back of the building.

 _Shit._

"Can I help you?" No point in trying to make a dash for the phone. The kid might be twitchy but he looked strong.

He looked up at me. "I… ah… need to use a phone."

No way was I turning my back on this guy. "Sorry, no phone. You could try the antique shop across the way."

"You got no phone?"

I shook my head.

He pulled out a handgun. I wasn't an expert by any means but it looked like the semi-automatics splashed all over TV and the movies. "Gimme your money!"

My intestines gurgled in warning as he pointed the gun at me. I slowly raised my hands. "I don't have any money. My shop isn't open for business yet."

"Fuck!" He cried in an angry, shaky shriek. "Fuckity fuck! Get your purse!"

Luckily I didn't carry a purse. All I had was my keys, my phone, ten bucks, and my bus pass. I slowly pulled out the money and bus pass before extending my hand. "This is all I have. I don't carry a purse."

He snatched the money and stared at it; his eyes growing round with a crazy expression emerging in the hazel depths. "This is it? What the hell?"

Before I could take a step back, he sprang into action. The gun butt connected with my skull and the lights went out.

* * *

Agony greeted me as my eyes fluttered open.

At first I thought I'd been blinded since all I could see was darkness. I blinked and my eyes adjusted to the low light – silvery moonbeams poured through the window like liquid platinum. Night had come and I was shit out of luck in getting home.

A groan escaped my throat as I pushed into a sitting position. "I'm going to puke."

The world wobbled dangerously and a warm, wet stream trickled from my hairline tracing a path over my forehead down the bridge of my nose before dripping onto my lips. I swiped my hand angrily only to find dark sticky liquid stinking of old pennies.

My stomach heaved emptying the meager contents onto the floor.

I clawed my way to a standing position. On shaky knees, I stumbled to the back and straight into the bathroom. I blinked against the sudden burst of light as I hit the switch.

My forehead sported an inch long gash that disappeared into my hairline. The flesh around the wound was swollen and sported a purplish-black bruise. The interior was an angry red still weeping blood. I clenched my teeth and hissed as I gently washed out the cut.

Finally I patted it dry.

A knock sounded on the front door followed by the jingle of the bell. "Hello?" The voice calling out was low, pleasant and undeniably female. "Anybody here?"

I steeled myself and headed for the front. The last thing I wanted was a surprise in the dark. My visitor might not be alone. My fingers brushed the light switch as I stepped into the front room.

The woman was young – surprisingly so – in fact she appeared no more than a girl of eighteen at most. She was medium height with dark wavy hair spilling over her shoulders. A face of great loveliness marked by large, expressive eyes the color of espresso captured my attention.

She was dressed oddly – a long ebony and cobalt blue tie-dye skirt of wispy material and a black satin bustier. A pair of dangling crow feather earrings brushed her shoulder blades. She was pacing and her eyes wandered over the kiln and pottery wheel.

"Hello. Can I help you?"

She gazed at me steadily without surprise. "Are you all right?"

"Not really," I admitted. "I was robbed earlier."

Consternation blossomed across her face. "I'm sorry to hear that." She held up a rose gold IPhone. "I found this in the bushes just up the road."

It was my phone.

I approached and held out my hand. "Thank you."

She placed the phone on my palm. "You're welcome." She walked to the window and gazed outside. "So you are an artist."

The phone sported a cracked display and a smear of blood on the case.

"I'm a potter." Strange my attacker got rid of the phone when it was worth over five hundred dollars. Even more perplexing was the blood… it wasn't mine. The phone was in the back when I was attacked.

A smile curved her lips up into a Cupid's bow. "My aunt was talented in ceramics. Are you opening your shop soon?"

"I'm in hopes of opening next week. That depends on how much inventory I can create," I pocketed the phone and held out my hand. "I'm Grace Martin."

The young woman looked startled; as though confused by the gesture. "My name is Star." She shook my hand and her skin was surprisingly cool.

"I'd give you the grand tour but this is pretty much it."

Star smiled. "It's charming. This is so much better than the insurance office that was here last year."

I opened my mouth but a voice from outside beat me.

"Star!"

She sighed. "I've got to go. It was nice meeting you, Grace."

I followed Star to the door and gazed past her.

There in the parking lot was a guy in his early twenties – perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two – with a mass of wild gold hair. He was tall and dressed in strategically ripped black jeans with a tuxedo shirt open mid-way down his chest. A beat up leather jacket and motorcycle boots completed the look.

Handsome didn't cut it with this guy – he was all out gorgeous sporting a playful grin and laughing sky blue eyes.

He was lighting a cigarette when Star stepped outside with me hot on her heels. With a resounding click the stranger snapped his pewter lighter shut before shoving it into his pocket. "Hey sis! You've been keepin' me hanging long enough. I'm hungry." He popped the cigarette between his lips before glancing my way. "Who's the cupcake?"

"You're always hungry," Star chided gently with a roll of the eyes. "This is Grace. She's the new owner."

I didn't correct her that I was merely renting.

Those laughing eyes raked over me before landing on Star once more. I felt strangely unkempt; my denim overalls and neon green Henley felt dull and dingy in his presence. Normally I could give two damns about people's opinions for my appearance.

For whatever reason I cared what this guy and Star thought.

I hoped she didn't smell the vomit on my breath from earlier.

"Is she coming with us?" The hopeful tone in his voice drew me away from ridiculous, morose thoughts.

Star frowned. "Paul, no."

Paul grinned broadly; cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips. "Aw come on, Star! Don't be a wet blanket. It's Taco Tuesday." He wagged his eyebrows at me. "You like tacos right?"

"Paul," Star stepped in front of me. "Grace is in no condition to go for a ride. Didn't you see her head?"

He lifted one eyebrow lazily. "Chill girl. I saw the heinous knot she's sporting. You okay?"

"Yeah," I replied. "I can't go anywhere. I need to clean up."

Star gave me a tight smile and a nod before approaching Paul.

I had just turned when his voice wrapped around me like a cozy, warm sweater.

"How are you going to get home?"

I paused before turning.

Paul tossed his cigarette to the pavement. "I doubt you live around here."

Star hugged herself and turned in the opposite direction.

I bit my bottom lip. A cracked IPhone didn't bode well for getting a ride. Besides, without cash or a credit card what car service or taxi would pick me up anyway?

"No I don't." I slipped my hands in my pockets. "I wouldn't want to be an imposition."

Paul chuckled. "Nah girl, no worries. Star and me have stuff to do so just walk down the street." He jerked a thumb toward the garage at the end of the road. The gate was open and light spilled through the narrow, slit windows. "One of our bros will give you a lift."

I looked toward Star as she turned toward me with tired eyes.

"You'll be fine," she assured me. "They are good guys."

I thanked them before going back inside.

There was a puddle of vomit to deal with before I could go anywhere.


	4. Chapter 4

_Quick AN: I hate to do this four chapters in but the characters have spoken. All the chemistry is between Marko and Grace instead of between Grace and David. I'm updating the pairing to reflect this. I hope you'll all understand with the next few chapters. Thanks for your support!_

* * *

I cleaned up the shop floor thoroughly before making my way to the back. It felt like a gong was being beaten madly – ringing in my head until my empty stomach threatened dry heaves. Washing out my mouth, I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

Dark bags beneath my eyes matched the huge bruise spreading across my forehead. I was washed out; even my lips so pale as to appear ghostly. Before leaving I tied my hair back into a loose ponytail.

Once the shop was locked up tight I headed down the road.

The night air was balmy with a surprising profusion of stars spattered across a sky dark as velvet while looking for all the world like a Van Gogh.

All around the other businesses had closed; it was well after eleven.

The only other people on the street located at _Smith Bros Detailing and Custom Bikes._ The sign was surprisingly small and partially hidden by some evergreen bushes growing lush and round beside the fence. The vibe it gave off was this was a business operating by word of mouth or invitation only.

Just before I reached the fence music drifted over me: deep and melodic with a beat I recognized instantly. At first the identity of the singer's unique husky voice eluded me.

I stood on the gate's threshold and listened.

' _Silence like a cancer grows. Hear my words that I might teach you…'_

A shiver wracked my body as David Draiman's voice slashed through the night. I'd always loved _Disturbed_ though this song was hitting a little too close to home at the moment. Shoving my hands deep into my pockets I headed up the walk as the music washed over me.

No cars were parked in the building's lot; just two motorcycles.

The closer I came to the building the louder the music blasted. I stepped up to the door and rapped.

Despite the shocking noise level the door opened wide. Silence fell as heavily as a sledgehammer.

The man staring down at me was savagely beautiful. Raven-dark hair fell over his shoulders even while a pair of piercing eyes ripped deep into me. A soft grunt escaped his throat. "You got the shit end of the stick." He swung the door wide open and stepped aside. "Paul and Star told us you'd be by. Come on in."

I eased by him and jumped when he slammed the door shut behind him.

"Name is Dwayne," he passed on silent feet. "Grace, right?"

"Yeah," I answered. "So… motorcycle detailing?" The shop was high end and shockingly clean; traces of cigarette smoke and hints of motor oil perfuming the air.

He murmured an affirmative. "I don't work here. The business belongs to David and Marko." Dwayne grabbed a set of keys off a nearby metal table. "I'll give you a ride home."

"I don't get an introduction?" The voice addressing us both was made of smoke and silk; simultaneously teasing and serious as death. "I'm disappointed in you, Dwayne."

A figure stepped out from behind a gunmetal gray partition covered with shelves full of shiny chrome parts. He was shorter than Dwayne by a few inches but no less imposing. His short platinum hair was artfully spiked yet a little messy as though he just came in from a breezy afternoon. The sheer confidence he carried only added to the exotic aura surrounding him.

He pinned me in place with a pair of arctic blue eyes and circled me as a lion might a wounded gazelle. Those powerful, terrible eyes never left me as he walked a tighter and tighter circle. "So you're the almighty potter Star told us about."

"Almighty might be laying it on thick," I joked.

The attempted quip stopped him dead in his tracks. He lifted one eyebrow and leaned down so far our noses nearly touched. I wasn't short but he was so imposing I felt like a five year old in his presence. "I see we have a comedienne on our hands, Dwayne."

Dwayne merely chuckled and leaned his shoulder against the wall as he watched us.

"I'm David," he rocked back and cocked his head. "And you must be Grace."

Suddenly my mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton balls. I swallowed with desperation to moisten my mouth enough to speak. Just when David's brow arched absurdly high, I managed to force a few words out. "Grace I am. Indeed. I mean… yeah."

Despite the impassive mask he wore, a spark flashed deep in that frozen gaze. "I think the dirtbag that clocked you might have done some permanent damage. Come back when you recover." David strolled past me in the direction from which he came. "We like our sister to be happy."

"Come on," Dwayne already had the door open.

I preceded him out and then followed him to one of the motorcycles. To be brutally honest, I know absolute _shit_ about bikes. That being said – the motorcycle was a beauty; all flawless curves and shining chrome along with onyx leather and matching paint.

"You like my ride." It wasn't a question but a statement. "Have you ever ridden before?"

My eyes must have told Dwayne all he needed to know.

He slipped on the bike and held out his hand. His flesh was surprisingly cool – like Star's – though not unpleasant to the touch. Dwayne guided me on and showed me where to rest my feet. "Put your arms around my waist," he instructed so quietly I barely heard him over the wind. "Make sure you lean when I do and we'll be good."

My hesitation brought those sharp dark eyes racing to mine. I was reminded of a raven's intelligent, predatory gaze as he studied me.

"What's the problem?" He laughed. "I'm not going to take liberties if you're worried about that sort of thing. You aren't my type."

The words were beyond blunt though his voice held only matter-of-factness and not insult.

I leaned close and snaked my arms around his middle.

"Address?"

"Paradise Acres at the Point," I intoned glumly. Living in a trailer park – swanky or not - was eating at me right along with the cancer. "Number 43."

Dwayne started the motorcycle and we were gone.

By the time we reached the end of the block, I was clutching at him desperately. The ride across town was quick. We arrived at my place in one piece. Dwayne helped me off the bike and I stumbled away.

"Thanks."

He nodded. "Better get inside before you pass out on the porch."

I waved and ascended the stairs on rubbery knees. Dwayne revved the engine before peeling away in a spray of gravel after I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The moment the door was locked, I sank to the floor pressing shaking hands to my mouth.

* * *

Despite waking up feeling like my old high school marching band spent the night tromping about my skull, my morning was incredibly productive. I stopped and replaced my IPhone since it was deader than a door nail before heading straight to work. The looks I received at the store and on the bus told me my forehead was as bad as I thought it was.

By sunset I had twelve plates, bowls, and cups. The sets needed to be glazed and fired but a sense of pride burned inside of me.

Realistically I needed a load more before I could open the doors.

I was so tired and achy I missed the bus.

The idea of returning to the garage as David insisted was crawling inside my brain. To say I wasn't tempted would be a lie. An easy ride home would come at a high cost. Something was off about David and Dwayne. I couldn't put my finger on the problem.

 _They're dangerous._

I shook my head at the thought burrowing deep into my mind.

While I had money for an Uber ride, I decided to walk a few blocks. My stomach growled as I passed a Chinese restaurant. I hadn't eaten since I wolfed down a microwaved burrito at lunch.

"Where are you going?" The softness of the question was laced with curiosity.

I stopped and looked over my shoulder.

Star was only a few feet behind me. Tonight she was swathed in a lavender cotton maxi-dress that swirled around her ankles. Glittery silver sandals and a white sheer shawl embroidered with beaded purple butterflies completed the outfit.

My faded jeans, old battered Nike's, and _Denver Broncos_ jersey made me feel like a total slob.

I pushed a stray lock of hair over my ear. "I'm just heading home. It's been a long day."

"Your head must hurt." Star's eyes filled with compassion. "Have dinner with me. The _Royal Dragon_ has the best Chinese in Santa Carla."

My hesitation spoke volumes and Star reached out and twined her arms around mine.

A soft smile eased over her generous mouth. "I know you're hungry."

"More like starved," I admitted.

The _Royal Dragon_ was a fabulous hole in the wall – silk wall hangings depicting scarlet and gold dragons combined with common banquet tables and chairs. Red paper lanterns decorated the ceiling while cheap laminated tablecloths rested on the tables.

We talked quietly about Santa Carla over Shirley Temples and Kung Pao chicken.

The pain in my head was now an occasional, niggling thump in the vicinity of the actual wound.

I knew more about the city after this one meal than I ever had. Star told me where to find cheap, chic clothes and the best bars. She laughingly informed me which neighborhoods to avoid along with the current political climate.

"I missed this city," I confessed as the waitress left the check. Before Star could react, I snatched it up and inspected the damage. $34.95… ouch. "As a thank you on bringing me up to speed I insist on paying."

Star's eyes widened. "No! Please don't. I have money…"

"I think not." I handed the waitress money with the check and her tip. "Thanks for cheering me up."

The younger woman smiled and watched me rise from my seat. She slowly followed and gathered her shawl around her shoulders. "Come back to David and Marko's garage with me." We stepped outside and a pair of laughing teens sporting rainbow Mohawk do's dodged us. "I would love the company."

My stomach turned cold. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm just going to make the last bus as is…"

Star reached out and took my hand between her own. "Please? I promise you'll get a ride home."

"No offense," I spoke in a gentle, measured voice. "But I don't think I want to catch another ride with Dwayne."

She looked startled. "Why not? Did Dwayne do something?"

"What?" I stammered. "No! He just drove like a maniac." Star's reaction was all I needed to know my intuition – at least about Dwayne – was correct. "I was scared shitless."

Star's nostrils flared as she took a deep breath. "The first time I rode with David, I felt the same way." Looping her arm through mine, she steered me in the direction of my studio and the garage. Her grip was soft with a core of underlying strength that surprised me. "I was terrified and almost peed myself."

"Why did you go back for more?"

A wistful look settled over her face giving her even more of an ethereal aura. "As scary as that ride was it also gave me a sense of freedom I never knew before. That kind of feeling can be addictive."

I processed her words in silence. We made it to the garage's fence before I spoke again. "Paul really isn't your brother, is he?"

She flashed a secret smile in my direction. "Paul is my brother… in a sense."

"Is he your boyfriend?"

Star laughed so much she nearly doubled over. "Paul! No!" She finally recovered some composure. "He's gorgeous don't get me wrong but he is like a brother to me. Besides he's not my idea of boyfriend material."

I smiled in expectation.

A playful sparkle danced in her eyes. "I'm not his type either. Dating isn't high on my list of priorities."

"Star."

David's voice wrapped around us like a layer of chilled silk. The hair rose on the back of my neck.

Star's lashes lowered as she stared past my shoulder toward the end of the street. "We're coming, David."

"Marko will be back soon. I have something I want to show you."

The garage door closed with a bang making me jump. Star didn't so much as flinch.

She smiled and headed for the garage; trailing subtle jasmine perfume. "Come on," Star trailed her long, pale fingers through the air like she was stroking the back of a cat. "I promise nothing bad will happen."

I watched her skip to the door before disappearing inside.

Releasing a sigh, I followed.

* * *

The bright light flooding the garage interior made my eyes tear up after being saturated in darkness. I blinked madly before a car shimmered into being. Not any car – a classic Mustang in mint condition. The paint was cherry red and glittered like rubies. I'd never seen a car sparkle before.

While the car was a beauty the paint job made it seem garish.

"We have a critic," David murmured around the lit cigarette dangling from his lips. "What do you think, Star?"

She wandered around the car as though lost in a daze; her fingers trailing over the slick finish. "I love it, David. This is my dream car."

He smirked and tossed a set of keys in her direction.

Star held up her hand, eyes still pinned firmly on the car, and caught the keys out of the air with such precision my mouth fell open. "Where did you get it?"

David gave a one shoulder shrug before turning away. He was busy cleaning tools off a wide bench as he spoke. "Garcia owed me. Some piece of garbage from San Diego was desperate to unload it. The car needed major restoration so Marko and I worked on it out back."

The black shirt David wore was sculpted to his form as were the blue jeans. He had a magnificent body… Clearly six years without getting laid was detrimental to my taste in men. I had a type: tall, older, and dark-haired. Preferably with an excellent career. The last guy I dated was a tax attorney.

He looked over his shoulder and the look on his face brought the blood rushing to my face. A broad smirk was etched on his mouth even as his eyes raked over me from head to toe. Without a word David turned his attention back to the bench.

Star was seated in the driver's seat of the Mustang with her hands curled around the wheel. Her eyes glowed with pleasure as she stared up at me. "What do you think, Grace?"

"Yeah," David turned wiping grease from his hands. "Give us your honest opinion."

I shoved my hands deep in my pockets and turned my back on David entirely. The look in his eyes made me deeply uncomfortable. "The car is beautiful."

Star looked to David briefly before her gaze returned to scouring the interior of the car.

"But…" David prompted from behind me. "Give us an honest opinion."

"The paint isn't my style."

Star grinned. "Then it's a good thing the car is a present for me."

"Exactly so," I retorted primly.

A step echoed behind me just before I was assaulted by the acrid scent of cigarette smoke and the feel of a body close – too close. "You don't like red, huh?"

I shrugged. "Red has never been a favorite of mine."

"That's because your life lacks passion."

My hackles rose at the proclamation. "Excuse me?" I whirled on him and a wall of dizziness smashed into me. David's form shimmered in and out of existence. Blinking rapidly, I took a deep breath and he reappeared as a solid wall in front of me. "I'm sorry but you don't know anything about me."

He inhaled and shot an insolent grin at me before pulling the cigarette from between his lips. His exhalation blew a fog of smoke in my face. "I know you dress like a woman who's had the life beat out of her – figuratively and literally. I know you hold back your opinion out of fear. Maybe you're afraid of what people might say or maybe you're afraid of your own power." David cocked his head. "You reek of fear and endings. That's a pity, Grace, because you have a lot to recommend you."

The car door closed. "Don't be cruel, David."

David's cold blue eyes took on a temporary expression of regret which faded quickly. "How long are you planning on staying in Santa Carla?"

A snort escaped my throat. "The rest of my life."

He raised one eyebrow as his gaze drilled so deep into me I longed to back away then flee. "What's going on, Marko?"

"Nothing much," a teasing male voice retorted. "I just dropped Garcia at the bus depot. We got company, huh?"

Against my better judgment, I turned toward the new player.

He was shorter than me by two inches with curly dishwater blond hair. A lean, lithe body clad in black leather pants and a shirt resembling wild tattoos strolled by. His boots echoed along the floor as he hauled a large brown paper bag in his arms. I caught only a quick glimpse of his profile: pale skin with a strong nose and jaw.

There was something about him… a familiarity I found puzzling.

Marko set the bag on the bench beside David and turned. Large, sleepy eyes the color of the Pacific at mid-day stared out of a face filled with equal parts innocence and pure mischief. The curve of his lips brought to mind kisses at midnight and limbs splayed wildly after a night of pleasure. Sensuality rose around him like smoke from a fire.

Our eyes met and I couldn't look away. A shiver ran down my spine leaving me weak-kneed.

Marko stared at me with open interest as he folded his arms over his chest.

A dim memory gained resonance. "I know you."

He smiled slow and easy even as he tilted his head. "Is that so? Funny but I don't remember you." Scratching under his chin absently, Marko let his eyes drift over me one last time before turning away. "Trust me, I have a long memory."

At that moment dizziness swept over me. I stumbled back only to knock into Star.

"Stop it," Star muttered even as she took me by the arms; steering me toward the car. "You both are so immature."

David laughed – low and long. "Grow a sense of humor, Star. You have all the time in the world."

She huffed.

The sound caught Marko's attention. "Don't get all upset, girl. Me and David are just having a little fun."

Star helped me into the passenger seat of the Mustang. My eyes fluttered shut as she responded. The tone of displeasure was unmistakable though I couldn't understand her words as I slipped into oblivion.

* * *

A groan escaped my throat. Sunlight was burning holes through my eyelids. "It's not possible for morning to be here." The last memory I had was Star putting me into the passenger seat of her new car.

How did I get inside and in bed? Star didn't strike me as strong enough to carry dead weight.

I rubbed a hand over my face before cracking my eyes open. The light seared my retinas before my eyesight cleared. Everything was golden hued and beautiful. With a sigh, I shoved up before rising on shaky knees.

After a hot shower I wrapped a towel around me before picking out my wardrobe. David's admonishment about my appearance rang in my ears. Had I behaved subconsciously like a dead woman walking all my life? Why were the words of a punk bothering me so much?

Instead of overalls or jeans, I pulled out a skirt I hadn't worn in ages. A light, gauzy thing of cream eyelet I topped with an olive green peasant blouse. I slipped on a pair of sandals before making my way to the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later I was sitting on the front porch cradling a coffee cup between my hands staring up at the cloudless blue sky.

"Hey!" A loud male voice dragged me back from pleasant daydreaming.

I glanced over to find my neighbor on his porch in requisite robe and boxer shorts though today he was – to my great chagrin – shirtless. "Umm… hello."

Dr. Aronsky took my greeting as an invitation. He barreled across the lots; his flip-flops smacked the pavement with his every step. The mat of hair on his chest was ruffled by the breeze. Immediately, I looked away.

"I'm Ned Aronsky," he shoved a fat hand in my face. "You must be Grace Martin."

I shook his hand and hid a grimace at the clamminess of his skin. Luckily he released me quickly. "Yes, I'm Grace. Nice to meet you."

He bobbed his head before shoving a newspaper in my face. "I noticed you don't have a satellite dish and I didn't see the cable company drop by. I thought you could use a dose of local news." Aronsky's dark eyes widened as he took in my still raw head wound. "It's not safe to be running around at night."

Accepting the newspaper, I set it aside before flashing a tight smile at him. "Thanks but I'll be fine."

Aronsky pointed at my head. "Looks like you're already acquainted with the Santa Carla nightlife. Have you been to a doctor?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine."

His brows descended. "That's up to you but if you change your mind I'd be happy to take a look. Free of charge." He cleared his throat. "I've got to go. I'm driving to San Francisco today. Take care."

"Thank you." I waved as he turned on his heel and hurried back to his own trailer. "Aye-yi-yi." Shaking my head, I set down my coffee cup and unrolled the newspaper. "Let's see what the bad news du jour is."

 _ **Santa Carla Bulletin**_

 _Bloodless, headless corpse found at Seal Beach._

 _Byline: Sandy Masimoto_

 _Yesterday afternoon the tranquility of Seal Beach was broken when a family of four made a disturbing discovery. The unnamed witnesses found the decapitated body of a teenage boy washed up on the sand. Lieutenant Juan Riaz of the Santa Carla Police Department has stated there has been a preliminary identification of the victim._

 _Based on a missing report issued two days ago seventeen year old Cooper Dan is suspected to be the deceased. Lieutenant Riaz stated Mr. Dan's family identified him by the clothing he was wearing along with a distinctive tattoo the young man recently acquired. Santa Carla PD will make an official statement on identity after a DNA test is completed._

I let my eyes travel down to the photograph below the story. My stomach heaved and I gagged. "Oh shit."

Staring up from the front page was the smiling face of the young man who robbed and assaulted me. My fingers went numb and the newspaper slipped away. I watched with sightless eyes as the pages danced in the wind and were dragged down the drive…

* * *

Thanks for reviewing: Lyanna L, J Berry Smith, Chantal, Guest, LostInSantaCarla3, IsabelleBrown, and DepartedLies. I really appreciate hearing your thoughts!

Thanks for favoriting: Ninja Kitty 101, ShiplessOceans, Thetroublewithexes, and zuleika126

Thanks for following: Harlz96, Ninja Kitty 101, ShiplessOceans, and zuleika126


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** Sorry I haven't updated in so long but I have had a severe case of flu. To make matters worse my baby has it so I plan to update again in two weeks to give him a chance to recuperate with my undivided attention.

* * *

Three weeks passed before I saw Star or any of her _brothers_. My days were filled with creation in the studio and my mind on the growing messages piling up on my phone. Jessica and Dad had left dozens. Often over the years I contemplated the idea my father and best friend were soul mates – they worried with such passion it was both heart-warming and sickening.

Sucking strawberry cream cheese off my thumb, I grabbed my cell as _'Sharp Dressed Man'_ by ZZ Top blared. "Hey Dad," I took a bite of my bagel; talking around the morsel. "How are you?"

' _When were you going to tell me about the move_?' Dad's voice was filled with strain. _'I had to find out from Jessica you moved back to Santa Carla?!'_

I rolled my eyes – not bothering to respond. When Dad was on a rip it was best to just let him get it out.

An echo developed on the line as the shouting began.

" _ **Santa Carla?!**_ _Have you gone insane?"_

I shifted the phone beneath my chin and polished off my bagel as Dad unloaded.

' _Did you even bother reading the statistics on crime? No! That might indicate you have some common sense!'_

On and on he went railing against the dangers and horrors of the Santa Carla criminal underground.

At least I knew he was blissfully unaware of the cancer. Jessica might have ratted me out on the move but she kept quiet where it really counted. Running a hand through my hair, I took a long sip of coffee.

Finally Dad fell silent.

"Can we talk like civilized people?" I asked quietly.

Dad heaved a sigh. _'You know I worry. Santa Carla is dangerous. That's why we moved away, honey. Please think about this.'_

I scrubbed a hand over my face before pacing to the window. Outside the sky was cloudless and sun poured down thick like honey. A jogger passed by and the parking lots at the other businesses – other than _Smith Bros_ – were packed.

"I understand," I tried to keep my voice gentle despite the irritation and worry swirling in my gut. "Look, Dad, I needed to get away from Denver. A fresh start never hurt anyone. Santa Carla _feels_ different now." And the city did have a different vibe from when I was a kid. "I missed the weather and the atmosphere."

Sure there had been a couple disappearances since I arrived but _**nothing**_ like when I was little.

He was quiet for a minute before speaking. _'You're an adult… you have been for years. Grace, I'm your father and I'll never stop worrying about you. Promise to keep in touch. Santa Carla is more dangerous than you can possibly imagine.'_

"I promise."

Dad murmured a goodbye.

I tapped the cell against my chin as tears welled in my eyes. Sooner or later I needed to tell Dad the truth. The mere thought lodged a searing pain close to my heart.

* * *

The next afternoon I finished the last of my inventory. Platters, dishes, coffee cups, vases, and three pitchers covered the shelves – all glazed, decorated and fired. For the first time since I stepped in Santa Carla I had enough inventory to sell.

A playful knock sounded on the door.

Since my encounter with Cooper Dan, I kept the locks engaged.

I finished wiping glaze from my fingers before sticking the rag in my back pocket. Peering out, I found a very chic-looking woman smiling at me through the window. My eyes bulged when she wagged her fingers at me in a goofy wave.

She was shorter than me with shoulder-length coffee colored hair, flawless caramel skin, and a bright smile. The clothes she sported were designer: black pencil skirt, powder blue sleeveless blouse, and a pair of high heel black _Louboutin's_. Large black _Chanel_ sunglasses kept her eyes from view. I guessed her around fifty though she was incredibly lovely with a youthful radiance.

I opened the door. "Can I help you?"

She held out a beautifully manicured hand. "My name is Maria Espinoza." We shook briefly and she looked over my shoulder before meeting my gaze once more. "I was driving by and I noticed the sign."

Two days earlier the sign I ordered after renting the studio finally arrived. _Graceful Pottery and Ceramics_ was carved into old driftwood and inlaid with pebbles.

"Are you open to the public yet? I didn't see hours posted in the window."

I stepped aside and waved her in. "I'm going to open on Monday but please come inside."

Ms. Espinoza passed by me and I picked up the scent of _Burberry_. "I own a gallery in the historic district and I'm always on the hunt for new artists. This is such a lovely space…"

My face burned. "I'm sorry! I'm Grace Martin. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Espinoza."

She chuckled as she passed by a line of shelves; her fingers ghosting the slick surface of the dishes on display. "It's okay, honey. For all intents and purposes I busted in on you. Call me Maria. I hate titles." Her lips parted as she halted before a platter I glazed and fired three days previous. "This is beautiful."

The platter was a two foot oval glazed in rich colors with a starburst design.

"How much?" Maria turned toward me.

I blinked. "I don't know. There has been so much going on I haven't had the chance to think about pricing."

She opened her Luis Vuitton clutch. "I understand. Business can cause migraines." A pair of crisp hundred dollar bills was extended toward me. "Do you think this is a fair price?"

"Uh," I reached out and took the bills; feeling their texture against the pads of my fingers. "Yeah this is a very fair price."

Maria picked up the platter with gentle hands. "I'm throwing a party for up and coming Santa Carla artists." She shifted her clutch beneath her arm before cradling the platter against her chest. "Please consider coming."

Parties had never been my thing.

"I don't know…"

She approached slowly – her heels clicking against the hardwood floor with aching precision. "Everyone who is anyone in the Santa Carla art scene will be there. I've only seen a small sample of your work but it holds a great deal of promise. You belong with us, Grace."

The fact Maria hadn't removed her sunglasses disturbed me on some level I didn't care to examine.

I could feel her gaze piercing me from behind those black lenses. "When is the party?"

Her ruby lips tilted up into a strange, sultry smile. "Tonight. The dress code is semi-casual and there will be catering from _Sweet Chilies_ and live music from Georgia Haynes. All kinds of artists from Santa Carla and the surrounding county will be coming along with some wonderful local patrons."

 _Sweet Chilies_ was known throughout Santa Carla and Capitola for extraordinary Mexican food. My mouth watered at the thought. I'd been a diehard fan of sweet corn tamales since my teenage years. Georgia Haynes I'd heard of vaguely since my arrival in town – she was a middle age jazz chanteuse reputed to have a voice like finely aged scotch.

"I'll be there," I couldn't help but smile. "Thanks for the invite."

Maria grinned broadly. "You're welcome. The address is 1519 Pacific Avenue. We start at 9pm sharp."

I opened the door and she stepped into the sun jauntily. Maria headed straight for her black BMW coupe. Within minutes she was headed out in a flurry of dust.

Shrugging, I headed back inside.

* * *

Uber was a lifeline since the last buses had stopped running an hour ago. After I paid I stepped out into night air smelling of salt and the savory delights only Mexican food can provide. I pulled my jacket a little tighter as I approached the door to _Sunset Gallery._

The buildings lining both sides of the street hailed from the late 1890's with the trademark square row style of architecture and tall, wide windows. Boutiques, a museum, and several high class restaurants dominated the area. A few office buildings and apartments were interspersed up and down the street.

Most people thought of Santa Carla as sunsets, beaches, and the boardwalk. Rarely, if ever, did people consider the other areas of the city: uptown, the university quarter, or the funky residential areas abutting Capitola.

It was a pity because there was a lot to see.

Smooth jazz was flowing out of the _Sunset Gallery_. The wide, old-fashioned glass door was propped open allowing not just music but the scent of tamales to escape. A grouping of hand-blown glass balls the size of oranges and in a rainbow of colors was prominently displayed in the gallery window.

With a deep breath I adjusted the neckline of my blouse. My clothing style was probably best described as eclectic tomboy chic. Tonight I'd chosen to stay true to that long cherished style. A pair of hip hugger blue jeans, velvet tapestry ballet flats, and a square neckline, cap sleeved forest green silk blouse made up my outfit.

The inside of the gallery was packed with young and old, punks and yuppies, tech millionaires and starving artists. Paintings both modern and bucolic in style decorated the walls with sculptures and textile art displayed tastefully.

A young waiter dressed in black and white stopped at my elbow. "Would you care for champagne?" He extended a platter with several elegant glasses filled with the sparkling beverage.

I smiled and shook my head. "No thank you. I don't drink wine."

He returned my smile. "Very good, madam. There is an open bar serving other beverages."

"I never liked wine either," Star's voice echoed close to my ear.

I cast a startled glance over my shoulder only to be confronted with her laughing eyes. "I didn't expect to see you here!"

Star released a soft laugh. "I make jewelry." She pointed a low, wide case directly across the room. "I don't have the patience to run a boutique so Maria sells my work."

My eyebrows shot up. "You didn't tell me!"

The accusation caused a deep rose hue to dust Star's cheekbones. "I was interested in getting to know you. The jewelry is more like a hobby…"

"Nonsense," I stated firmly before marching toward the case with Star hot on my heels.

On dark velvet was a host of delicate necklaces, earrings, and bracelets. The designs varied but the material was silver, driftwood beads, shell, and polished sea glass. Everything was colorful, natural, yet fairy-like at the same time.

"This is beautiful," I declared with wonder. "Star, your work is pure art. Back in Denver you could make a mint."

She was clearly shy and looked away briefly. "Thank you." Tonight Star looked like a gypsy princess in a rainbow hued layered tulle skirt with a skin tight black silk tank top crusted with crystals. "It means a lot to hear that."

I opened my mouth to reply when a familiar, cool voice cut me off.

"Well, well," David drawled. "You clean up nicely."

Turning in place, I was toe to toe with the man. He was grinning down at me. Dressed in black with a dark duster, David was staring me dead in the eye. A cold chill ran down my spine as he walked by me to Star's side.

"Thanks," I muttered.

David chuckled before resting his arm around Star's shoulders. "Make any sales?"

Star laughed. "That's Maria's department."

"So it is," David murmured. "Tell me Grace – how has life been treating you?"

"Life has been grand. I'll be able to open the shop next week." I smiled. "I'm quite happy."

David's eyes turned frigid; twin pools of ice water. "Are you?"

A crushing sense of David's gaze boring – shredding – deep inside me was so overpowering I took a step back. "I beg your pardon."

His lips quirked as he continued gazing into my soul. "Happiness is difficult to measure… especially when time proves to be so finite."

 _Finite?_ My mind turned the word over and over like a Rubik's Cube.

Like a lightning strike it burned me raw: _David knows I'm going to die_.

No sooner than the words bloomed in my brain did David's smirk grow like that of the Cheshire Cat. Star was eerily quiet though her eyes were no less intense.

He leaned toward me and spoke in low, husky tones, "Come with us tonight and we'll show you what a good time really is."

"I don't know…"

"Please," Star had wrapped her arms around David's left arm. "I'll be the only female and it would be so nice to have another girl along."

Before I could reply, Maria's voice broke in. "David are you harassing Grace?"

He broke eye contact with me only to toss a friendly grin over my shoulder. "Maria," David's voice warmed considerably. "How are you tonight?"

Maria appeared beside me. She was wearing an elegant black cocktail dress and heels. Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief as she studied David. "You're so good at deflecting questions with questions."

A deep chuckle escaped his throat. "You know me too well." David looked to Star. "Let's take a walk and find some grub."

Star smiled at me as she passed by.

Maria smiled at me. "David can be an ass but he means well."

I nodded.

"What do you think?" She raised her champagne glass in a toast to the room.

"I love it," I looked back at Star's jewelry beneath the display glass. "You have a very impressive business."

Maria grinned. "Thank you. I was hoping to display some of your work here. It would be a great partnership and free advertising for your shop."

My heart rate sped up. "That would be amazing."

"Maria," The familiarity of Dwayne's voice washed over us. "You promised me a dance, girl."

There was something very unsettling in the way Dwayne addressed Maria – as though a woman of at least fifty was a twenty year old. More strange was how he looked at her with tenderness and what I perceived to be desire.

She laughed and set her champagne flute on the counter before accepting his hand. Dwayne whirled her onto the dance floor before taking her in his arms. They moved in perfect concert as Georgia Haynes belted out a strong version of _Moon River._

I looked for Star and David but they were nowhere to be seen.

A yawn escaped my throat as I watched the crowd.

Looking around, I felt a keen sense it was time to leave.

* * *

I slipped through the crowd and stepped outside. I was searching through my purse for my phone when another familiar voice addressed me.

"Hello Grace."

My head popped up and I gasped.

Marko was standing less than five feet away. Tonight he wasn't wearing a lot of color: a gray hoodie over a scarlet t-shirt, jeans, and a red pair of Converse sneakers decorated with skulls. The light hit in just the right way highlighting a silver skull earring dangling from his left ear.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he neared me slowly. "Are you taking off?"

"Yeah. I've never been big on parties."

Marko nodded thoughtfully as those ocean-blue eyes wandered past me up the street. "I get it. The only reason I showed up was to support Star."

"She left with David."

He snorted. "Figures!" Marko raised one eyebrow. "Wanna take a ride?"

I hesitated before closing my purse. "Why not?"

He grinned. "Good answer. I'll give you a lift home after. Do you like the beach?"

"I love the beach."

Marko didn't seem surprised. "I know a great spot and we'll be able to see the boardwalk from there."

We walked in comfortable silence to his motorcycle.

* * *

Marko proved as insane a driver as Dwayne – only this time I was prepared. My arms looped around his lean belly while I molded my body to his. A solitary gold curl brushed my cheek as the wind whipped us both madly. He raced down roads before barreling across the sand as dark waves crashed against the shore while we zipped by.

Past a forest, Marko finally slowed to a stop before glancing over his shoulder. "You're still in one piece."

"No thanks to you," I quipped.

Unlike David's strange reaction to my humor, Marko gave a harsh bark of laughter. He shook his head before sliding off the bike and helping me off. "I try my best." He crossed his arms over his chest before gnawing at his thumbnail. "What do you think?"

I looked around.

We were miles away from civilization with a thick mist rolling in off the Pacific.

A lighthouse was just off the shore and the lights were flashing highlighting the black ocean below. The entire atmosphere was eerie.

"It's a nice quiet spot," I stated before tacking on, "And it's a little creepy."

Marko chuckled before giving me a nod. "Smart cookie." His eyes traveled over me before meeting mine. There was curiosity in his gaze along with intensity reminiscent of David. "So why is a nice woman like you riding around with a stranger? Santa Carla isn't safe."

A chill pricked the skin of my arms.

"I swear I know you from somewhere…"

He scratched beneath his chin. "Not likely, Grace." Marko took a step forward and tilted his head to look up at me. "I've never been to Denver."

Yet Marko felt familiar to me in a way I had never experienced before.

"No, I'm not saying Denver," I shrugged and shook my head. "I don't know! I just feel like I've met you before."

He arched one eyebrow and studied me. "Let me give you a lift home. You look a little piqued."

The ride home was a blur of cool wind, streaking light from streetlamps, the roar of a motorcycle, and Marko's back pressed against me.

I thanked him when we pulled up in front of my trailer.

Marko was silent until I was halfway to the front door. "Hey!"

Turning, I raised one eyebrow. "Yes?"

A playful expression came over his face – those blue-green eyes sparkling as a grin stretched over his mouth. "Don't I get invited in?"

I laughed. "I thought you just warned me against hanging out with you."

"Ah," Marko wagged a finger in mock chastisement. "I see you like to twist a guy's words."

A half-shrug and guilty grin was my only response.

He chuckled so low I nearly didn't pick up the sound. "You're breaking my heart here."

"Uh-huh," I sang out as I unlocked my door. "Have a good evening, Marko."

"Later Grace," he replied.

The moment I shut the door behind me and threw the lock, Marko gunned the engine of his motorcycle before peeling out of my driveway.

* * *

Thanks for reviewing: LostInSantaCarla, Chantal, IsabelleBrown, ShiplessOceans, Lizzie, Guest, J. Berry Smith

And to those following and making the story a favorite, a great big thank you: DoodleBugNY, HoneyBadgeAmy, IsabelleBrown, Luronda, ToTurnBackTheHandsOfTime


	6. Chapter 6

' _The love shack is a little ole place where we can get together…'_

I groaned while shoving a mass wild hair out of my face. A gasp escaped my throat as a huge irregular bruise on my wrist came into view. "Oh shit!" I sat and studied the underside of my wrist as my alarm clock blared the B-52s _Love Shack._

The doctor back in Denver warned me the leukemia would cause bruising as the disease progressed.

Tears boiled in my eyes.

I reached over and slapped the alarm. The ensuing silence was far worse than blasting 80's music.

Hopping out of bed, I pushed aside fears regarding the bruising. Instead all my effort was concentrated on washing, dressing, eating a bowl of Cheerios, and heading out the door. I needed to get my shit together in order to figure out prices for the inventory I created.

The shop needed to start making money if I wanted to spend what was left of my life in Santa Carla.

One needed money to live as distasteful as the truth happened to be.

By mid-morning I was at the shop. I spent two hours in careful consideration of a pricing strategy before breaking for lunch. Giving in to my growling stomach, I decided to enjoy a leisurely lunch at _Taquitos_. The Mexican restaurant was little more than a hole in the wall but the food was out of this world.

Sunlight poured down over me as I rounded the block. The air was perfumed with honeysuckle and salt from the ocean. I took pleasure in the breeze as it caressed my hair. Cars passing by and bicyclists gave life to the streets of Santa Carla. Pedestrians passed laughing together boisterously as they exchanged stories.

 _Life is good._

The thought made me smile.

Without warning David's face loomed in my mind, his words echoing in that cool, husky voice of his: _'Happiness is difficult to measure… especially when time proves to be so finite.'_

Anger flared inside me. David had somehow figured out I was sick. Only an asshole would use sensitive information against someone. Hatred washed through my veins leaving me feeling weak as I finally made it to _Taquitos_.

Two sweet corn tamales later I felt a hundred percent better.

Wiping my mouth with a napkin, I smiled at the sky enjoying the sun as the rays baked my skin.

I was feeling pleasantly sleepy with a full belly and the gorgeous weather wrapping around me like my grandmother's chenille shawl.

No matter if the leukemia was progressing – my life was worth enjoying. I was going to live it for as long as possible.

* * *

Night fell like a black velvet cloak across the Santa Carla sky.

The moment I stepped off the bus I noticed for the first time how people scattered. Remaining on the street didn't seem to be part of the agenda. Pairing off, people stuck to the yellowish pools of light radiating down from the streetlights. I watched as they ducked into restaurants, stores, and houses.

Soon I was the only one walking.

I turned into the trailer park and swiftly made my way home.

No sooner than I cracked open a beer did the sound of a motorcycle rumbling cut through the silence. I set down the bottle before peeking through the kitchen blinds.

A lithe male figure was seated on his bike no more than a shadow as he left the headlights on blinding me. All the trailers around mine were dark – including Aronsky's – leaving me with a creepy feeling. The thought occurred to me it was David.

My heart turned cold and dropped like a stone into the vicinity of my stomach.

"Time to stop acting like a chicken," I hissed. Squaring my shoulders, I headed outside.

The air had turned from the balminess of the earlier afternoon to a bitter chill as wind barreled in from Monterey Bay. Cold combined with utter silence of the seemingly abandoned park made the hair on my nape stand on end.

I eased toward the steps. "Hello?"

The echo of my voice rose above the persistent purr of the motorcycle engine.

A living shadow leaned forward and switched off the headlight allowing light from the porch to illuminate his face revealing none other than Marko. He was grinning mischievously. "Wanna go for a ride?"

Hesitation fogged my senses like a black cloud. The thought of seeing David's smug face made my stomach clench like a fist had hold of it. "I don't know…"

He arched an eyebrow. "I thought we could have dinner and drinks – on me."

"No David?"

Marko didn't appear fazed by the question. "Just you and me… and maybe Paul." He shrugged. "That is only if Paul deigns to join us."

The knowledge an empty trailer was waiting for me proved depressing.

"Let me grab a jacket!" I shouted.

Marko was smiling again. "Good deal!"

I hurried inside, shrugged into a jean jacket grabbed my purse and keys before locking the door on the way out. Every step closer to Marko felt like heading toward inevitability. Part of me wanted to run back inside, lock the door, and hide in a closet.

An internal snicker nearly escaped my throat. _'Chicken! Ye gods grow a pair! You're a grown woman!'_

Marko wagged his eyebrows playfully. "Hey Grace," he held out a hand. "How do you feel about a little Southern barbeque? I know a great place in Capitola."

"Ribs? Yes please!" I placed my hand in his and allowed him to guide me behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder. "Hold on tight."

The moment I looped my arms around his waist, Marko let out a playful howl that drew laughter from my throat. In minutes we were racing through the night. My hands clenched at Marko's chest as he increased speed of the motorcycle.

"Enjoying the ride?" Marko shouted over his shoulder.

I was smiling so hard my face felt like it might split. "Hell yes!"

He let out a joyful shout before turning his attention back to the road.

If Santa Carla was a vacation town, Capitola was a hippie enclave. The town seemed so much lighter and brighter than Santa Carla. There were a few disappearances but nothing like my hometown suffered over the years.

Marko pulled into a dirt parking lot beside a hunkering diner looking like it had seen better days. The white clapboard was graying with the advance of time. A blue neon sign seemingly left over from 1955 announced the eatery's name: _The Rib Shack._

Motorcycles of varying models crowded the lot with a few convertibles and classic cars.

Marko helped me off the bike and came to stand at my side. "This place has the best ribs I've ever tasted bar none."

"That's pretty high praise," I rejoined.

He started to walk and I fell into step beside him. "You'll understand once you taste those ribs." Marko pulled open the door. "Ladies first."

"Aren't you the gentleman?" I smiled and eased inside.

The interior of the diner was retro… in a very _old_ way. Black and white squares of linoleum, red leather booths, vintage tables and menus added to the atmosphere. Bikers seemed to occupy every booth and table in sight along with the lengthy counter running the length of the diner.

A huge bear of a man in black leather stared at Marko before rising from his seat in a far booth. "Come on," he gestured to his companion. "Let's go."

The two men passed Marko and the first tilted his chin toward my new friend. "Marko."

Marko's expression was steely. "Rodney."

The moment the two men seated themselves at the counter, Marko nodded to me. "We should grab that seat before someone else does."

We took the now deserted booth and Marko held out a menu to me as I shrugged out of my jacket.

Marko's smile died. He let the menu drop to the table before reaching out and seizing my hand. A gasp escaped my throat as Marko leaned close to examine my wrist. "What happened here?"

"I… ah…"

The stuttering of my words dragged Marko's eyes back up to mine. He swept his thumb over the bruise with such a feather-light touch a shiver ran down my spine. As though Marko realized the inappropriateness of what he'd done, he released me without warning. "Tell me what happened. I'm a damn good listener."

 _To tell the truth or not?_ The idea tormented me.

Marko leaned back against his seat. "Or not," he teased good-naturedly. "It's up to you." He snapped open his menu and began studying it in earnest. "Damn I'm starved. I should have stopped for a snack earlier."

The knowledge I had no real friends in Santa Carla aside from Star – and I hadn't confided in her – was painful. Grinding down my soul was the knowledge this disease was poised to take my life. What if I told Marko and he felt sorry for me?

Yet I felt this strange sense of comfort in his presence I couldn't explain.

I opened my menu and stared at it sightlessly. "I have leukemia."

The heaviness of Marko's gaze weighted me down in the seat. He was silent as minutes ticked by; his quietness against the loud mayhem of the people around us a startling comparison. A heavy sigh was torn from his throat. "Shit," Marko muttered. "That sucks."

Wiping a hand over my mouth, I forced my eyes to his. "Don't you dare feel sorry for me."

The fierceness of my words appeared to take him by surprise. "Whoa – pitying you is the last thing on my mind. I just think it sucks you're going through this."

I gnawed the inside of my lip. "I apologize."

Marko shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I'd be more than pissed if I had cancer." He wagged his menu. "Let's order. If I have to wait much longer I'm going to chew off my damn arm."

I was shocked he acted completely cool about my disease. I felt instantly at ease. Picking up my menu, I studied it with care. "That would be completely disgusting to witness."

He chuckled. "Yeah it would. What are you feeling? The baby back ribs with honey barbeque are killer."

A soft grunt escaped me. "I'm thinking short ribs, Memphis style."

Marko's hand shot up in the air. A pretty young Hispanic waitress hurried over with pen and pad at the ready. "Give us an order of baby back ribs with honey barbeque, Memphis style short ribs, beer battered onion rings, and two beers." His eyes slid to mine. "What kind of beer?"

"Guinness."

Marko nodded and the waitress disappeared. He sank back against the seat. "Stout huh?"

I grinned. "Damn straight."

"I like your swagger," he returned with a laugh.

* * *

Marko proved to be pleasant company – he was a quiet, pensive young man with a clever wit. He was fond of ultra-casual clothes like jeans and hoodies with t-shirts. Tonight he favored black and gray with a skull and crossbones plastered across the front of his shirt. Rather than act as a blowhard, Marko listened. When he chose to speak he expressed his opinions clearly and concisely with such intelligence I was impressed… and more than a little turned on.

Though he wasn't the _type_ of man I normally found attractive, I enjoyed his company so much it didn't matter.

We spoke at length about both Santa Carla and Denver. Marko was interested about the lifestyle I'd lived in Colorado. Reticence colored his responses when I tried to wrangle information about his life in Santa Carla.

Our bellies were full of delicious food and our fingers still sticky as we savored another serving of Guinness.

"I had a wonderful time tonight," I remarked quietly. "Thank you."

Marko took a long pull from his pint glass before cocking his head. "You want to go home? I was hoping to spend a little more time with you."

I checked my phone provoking a deep belly laugh from my companion. It was nearly eleven o'clock.

"Come on," Marko drew the words out playfully. "We can head down to the beach. Take a midnight stroll near the waves…"

"That's a romantic picture," I murmured drawing a smirk from him.

His eyebrows surged upward even as a look of mischief crossed his face. "Maybe," Marko drawled as he leaned forward on his elbows. "Or just maybe I want to eat you up like a juicy peach."

The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver of fear spearing up my spine.

I looked away; sucking in a deep breath. "As much as I'd like to oblige I think it would be best if I went home."

Marko was silent for a beat. "Maybe we'll take that walk another night."

My eyes swept to his. "Maybe."

He smiled in response before pulling a wad of cash from an interior pocket of his hoodie. Peeling off three twenties, Marko dropped the money on the table before rising. "Ready?"

I nodded and he extended his hand. Marko helped me to my feet before ushering me across the diner and out the door. We took no more than three steps when a high, shrill female voice ripped a hole in the night.

"Marko? What the hell?!"

I glanced at Marko. He winced briefly before turning to the left.

A young woman in her early twenties was standing with a trio of other young ladies. She was thin, petite, with a mass of strawberry curls surrounding a face of such beauty it was breathtaking. Bright grass-green eyes narrowed in obvious anger as her mouth narrowed in an unflattering sneer.

She was dressed in skin tight leather pants, thigh-high boots with a five inch heel, and red halter top that exposed a tightly muscled abdomen.

He arched one eyebrow. "What do you want Tiffany?"

Tiffany's mouth pressed into a thin line as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I want to know what you think you're doing. We had a date planned for tonight and you blow me off for this chick?"

"Not cool," one of the other girl's called out.

Marko snorted derisively. "We had a few good times, Tiffany. I never made any promises and we were _never_ exclusive so give up the bullshit self-righteous victim mentality."

Discomfort spread slimy tentacles through my gut.

Tiffany's face turned a dull, ugly shade of red. She turned toward me. "So _this_ is what gets you hard? Marko I had no idea you have a cougar fetish." The sneer was back on her face. "Pathetic."

"Girl you need to chill." Paul appeared out of the darkness. The smile he had when I first met him with Star was conspicuously absent; his bright sky blue eyes bitter cold. "There's no need to be a jerk."

"Fuck you!" Tiffany spat as her friends tittered.

When I turned to Marko he was expressionless as he watched Tiffany and the other girls filter into _The Rib Shack_.

Paul neared us, fishing a cigarette from his jacket and pulling a lighter out. "How's it hanging bud?" His tone was as light and friendly as it had been forbidding when addressing Tiffany.

Marko's eyes lit up with mirth. "Considering I just had my balls ripped off and shoved in Tiffany's purse – not bad. What about you?"

Paul took a deep drag from his cigarette and exhaled a fog of smoke. "I'm starving but good other than that. Are we going to catch a bite or what?"

A half-hearted shrug was Marko's response.

"Crap," Paul stated. "I'm gonna have to wait, huh?"

Marko's eyebrows rose giving him a mild expression. "I need to give Grace a ride home."

The two males locked eyes and I had a feeling there was a strange, silent conversation going on to which I would never be privy.

Paul smirked and looked away. "I'm feeling the need to gorge on some righteous ribs my brother. Meet me back here?"

"I'll swing back around," Marko said. "Don't forget David wants to talk to us."

Paul chuckled. "Yeah like I could." He tossed his cigarette to the pavement before heading inside. "Later bro!"

Marko fell silent before looking my way. "I'm sorry about Tiffany. She can be a real jackass at times."

I shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

He nodded and walked me to his motorcycle.

* * *

The next morning I decided to take my time before getting to the shop.

A hot shower was followed by quality time with lavender body cream. I flipped on the television before stepping into the kitchen. Captain Crunch was on the menu…

I grinned and began whistling as I filled a bowl with sugary cereal. In the midst of pouring milk a reporter's voice radiated into the kitchen.

"In breaking news a gruesome discovery was made on a Capitola beach in the pre-dawn hours. The bloodless body of a young female was found by a city sanitation worker cleaning up trash. Police have made a preliminary identification of the body as twenty-two year old Tiffany Jackson of Santa Carla…"

I turned cold; stepping to the kitchen peninsula with full cereal bowl in one hand and quart of milk in the other.

Blood drained from my head as a picture flashed on the screen of a familiar and very beautiful young lady.

 _Marko's Tiffany was smiling in genuine delight at the photographer._

"… a source which preferred to remain anonymous stated Miss Jackson's lower mandible and tongue had been savagely ripped away. Whether this is the work of natural ocean predators or a human killer will not be known until after the autopsy report is filed."

My hands went weak – the bowl smashing on the floor scattering cereal and shards of ceramic swiftly followed by the quart of milk. I began to hyperventilate as a pool of cold milk seeped into a large pool around my feet.

* * *

To those who reviewed thank you so much! LostInSantaCarla3, Chantal, Smith, IsabelleBrown, FlowerChild23, Lizzie, wicked howl

And to those that made the story a favorite or decided to follow the story I want to thank you as well! MackenzieStarr, Paigemaryfaee, girlygirl456, wicked howl

FlowerChild23, Misswonderland88, RosieIce, Winchester-or-Whitlock, ZombiesForNarnia, chocolatechipmilkshake


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I'll be updating the story from here on out twice a month for the foreseen future. Thank you for reading.

* * *

The rest of the day after the news report was spent huddled up in my room with the windows and doors locked. Eating didn't even occur to me. Once the mess on the kitchen floor was cleaned up, I felt physically ill. My mind was filled with memories of Tiffany's angry, cruel sneer and Marko's stoic response. Part of me wasn't sure if I should call the police to report what I'd seen.

Another part of me was loath to believe either Marko or Paul capable of that type of viciousness.

Nightfall only increased my anxiety.

I slipped into the living room in the dark. My eyes kept straying to the kitchen windows overlooking the drive as I checked the locks on the door and remaining windows. Some deep, terrified part of me didn't want any possibility of seeing Marko or Paul. In truth, I didn't want to see Star, David, or Dwayne either.

Pinpointing the reason didn't interest me.

My heart hammered in my chest to the point I feared a heart attack was coming on.

Quick as possible, I checked the kitchen windows. Once satisfied the locks were engaged I grabbed a bottle of water and bag of Cool Ranch Doritos before retreating to my bedroom. I shoved a heavy dresser in front of the door before turning on the bedside lamp.

I sank down on the bed with the bottle and bag clenched in my hands.

After a few minutes I set the bottled water and chips aside. Snatching up my phone from the nightstand, I dialed.

After four long rings, Jessica picked up. "Hey babe! How are you my love?" The sweetness of my friend's voice was like a balm to my soul. "I'm so happy you called."

A deep exhalation of relief escaped me. "Everything is going great. I'm sorry I haven't called but I've been busy with the shop."

Merry laughter echoed over the space between us. "No worries! I had a feeling you had your hands full."

No way in hell was I about to talk about Marko and the others or what happened to his ex-friend. Running a hand through my hair, I pushed the mass back over my shoulders. "I never thought everything could get so crazy."

"You lived a pretty cloistered life in Denver," Jessica stated quietly. "Did you find a beach house?"

I flinched. "Uh… well." With shaky hands I ripped open the bag of Doritos. "I'm a couple blocks from the beach."

Jessica hesitated before speaking. " _Okay_. Why are you acting so cagy?"

"Santa Carla is a lot more expensive than I thought it would be. Rent is outrageous." I took a deep breath. "I had to settle for a mobile home park."

There was absolute silence for a moment before Jessica broke into hysterical laughter. "You… in a _trailer_ park?" Wild snorts barged into my ear. "This is classic!"

I rolled my eyes even as a smile nudged my lips. "Yeah, yeah! Yuck it up," I muttered in my best Han Solo impression before sticking a chip in my mouth.

Jessica perked up. "Hark! Do I hear the crunch of a potato chip?" Amazement filled her voice.

"Dorito," I managed while in mid-chew.

"No!" She was laughing so hard it sounded like she was in danger of busting a lung. "Holy crap! You used to lecture me the minute I opened a bag of Lays."

A smile curled my lips. "I'm trying to change my life."

Jessica snorted good-naturedly. "The change is for the better. No offense, but you were turning into a health Nazi."

I crunched on another chip – smacking and crunching loudly as possible. "How is Kevin?"

"Trying to change the subject?"

"And failing miserably," I retorted. "Come on and spill."

Jessica sighed. "The same old story: I want to get married and Kevin doesn't."

"Dump the bastard," I declared before sucking the spices from my fingers. "Life is short and you don't need a loser like him dragging you down."

"Grace Martin!"

"I dare you to deny I'm right."

Jessica was quiet a moment. "I know you are." She released a deep, pained breath. "If Kevin wanted to marry me he would have asked three years ago."

My chest ached for her. "Damn straight. You're worth a hell of a lot more than the little bit douchebag decides to give."

We talked for another twenty minutes before she had to go.

I closed the bag of Doritos and finished my water before curling up in the bed. As I stared up at the flat white ceiling my eyelids grew heavier and heavier until they finally dropped shut…

* * *

 _The table was large and oval – highly polished mahogany gleaming in the low light. I stood awkwardly beside the table with a hand on a buttery leather chair. Shadows writhed like innumerable snakes leaving my heart slamming against my breastbone as I studied the darkness all around._

' _What's the matter Grace?' David's voice startled me so much I jumped. He released a deep, barking laugh in response. 'Don't be such a baby.'_

 _I turned to find David seated at the head of the table. He was leaning back in a formerly unoccupied chair; pushing it back while resting his booted heels on the lip of the wood. His arms were cushioned under his head and an unpleasant gleam in his pale eyes ripped at me._

' _How did you…'_

 _David chuckled cutting me off. 'As Conan Doyle so succinctly put it – people see but do not observe. I was here the whole time Grace.' The smile dropped from his face. 'We've always been with you.'_

 _Slowly, one by one, Marko, Paul, Dwayne, and finally Star emerged from the throbbing, living darkness. Like pale specters each took a chair aside from Star who moved to stand behind David. She looked nervous, casting an apologetic glance my way._

 _Marko's eyes met mine. 'Don't be scared, Grace.'_

' _What is this?' I demanded angrily._

 _David snorted. 'I'd tone down the attitude, girly. You're in no position to play the bitch.'_

 _Irritation battled with pure panic inside me. Something about this situation was off – I knew I was dreaming but it felt alarmingly real. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end._

' _I'm a grown woman. Don't call me girly again.'_

 _Marko looked from me to the now frowning David and back again. He released a sigh before pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Grace,' he near whispered my name. 'Don't be like this. Please just listen.'_

 _I chewed my bottom lip and looked back to David._

 _He took a deep breath before exhaling in a single, slow measurement. 'We've had our eye on you for some time, Grace.'_

 _My eyebrows arched. 'We just met.'_

 _A slight grin edged his lips up. 'Oh? Are you sure about that?'_

 _I frowned. 'Yes.'_

' _Wrong,' David chimed sarcastically. 'Trust me when I tell you so.' His eyes slid to Dwayne. 'Grab the platter if you would.'_

 _The handsome brunet raised one eyebrow as though questioning his friend but he still rose with elegance. 'Will do,' Dwayne muttered before becoming one with the darkness beyond the group._

 _When I looked back at the table a crystal decanter filled with ruby red liquid was set perfectly before David with a matching crystal goblet before every chair. Even mine._

' _Want a drink?' David asked with a smirk as he poured himself a glass of the rich liquid._

 _The smell and sight were off putting; far thicker than wine should be with a strange, almost salty aroma._

 _I shook my head. 'No thank you.'_

 _He shrugged in response. 'More for us.'_

 _Dwayne stepped into the light carrying a silver tray with a matching domed cover. He glanced at me before placing the platter in the center of the table. David held out his hand and Dwayne slapped it before dropping back into his chair._

' _I bet you'd like a peek,' David goaded. 'Go ahead and satisfy your curiosity.'_

 _Star's eyes took on sadness. 'Please don't do this, David.'_

 _His eyes flicked away toward the gloom. 'Star…' Clear warning filled his voice._

 _She crossed her arms and turned her back on all of us._

 _David's gaze returned to mine. 'All your questions will be answered if you pick up that lid.'_

 _I looked at Marko._

 _He was strangely serious. 'I'm not gonna tell you to do it. You need to do what you want – not what someone tells you.'_

 _Even normally smiling Paul was solemn._

 _Edging closer, I leaned forward with twitching fingers. The stainless steel was cool against my fingers as I grasped the lid yanking it straight up._

 _The sight that greeted my eyes was so horrific minutes ticked by before the lid slipped from my grasp landing with a crash against the table. The cacophony slowly died leaving a bizarre buzzing that filled my ears and deafened me to anything David or the others might be saying._

 _My eyes bugged to the point they ached. 'Oh my god…'_

 _There, in the midst of a bed of lettuce, was the severed head of someone painfully familiar to me._

 _The countenance of my long missing mother, Janet Martin, was staring up at me. Her beautiful face wore an expression of muted sorrow but her features were still young and unchanged from the last time I saw her when I was sixteen – just before she left Dad and me in Denver for parts unknown._

' _Mom,' I whispered._

 _The moment I spoke her dead eyes snapped open; the gray orbs no longer clear but cloudy. Her mouth opened. 'Grace,' she was singing my voice as she had when I was a child, only now her voice was menacing. 'Come join us. I've waited so long to see you again.'_

 _A scream was ripped from my throat._

 _David's cold, cruel laughter echoed all around. He held the crystal goblet of scarlet wine. 'Surprise,' he hissed before taking a long dreg from the vessel._

 _The moment that ruddy liquid crossed his lips, I began hacking as my lungs seized._

 _I covered my mouth with both hands as painful, deep coughs racked my lungs. The trickle of something warm tasting of copper exploded into my mouth before crossing my lips. I pulled my hands away to find them coated in my blood…_

With a high-pitched scream I surged upward.

Drops of blood decorated my hands and smeared against my fingers. Fear sent my heart racing so madly I feared a heart attack was looming on the horizon. The light of morning crept in around the edges of closed blinds. Here I was in my sweat-soaked bed panting like a beaten dog suffering the aftereffects of a nightmare that felt more real than any I'd ever experienced.

Taking a long, shaky breath I collapsed back against the pillow.

A crunching sound tormented me. I frowned and reached under the mound of feathers. My fingers curled around a slick, crisp bag. Yanking it loose, I stared at the half-full bag of now crushed Doritos. "Shit! See if I ever eat this garbage again."

Convinced my nightmare was the result of too much food preservative, I tried to shake it off as I showered and readied for the day.

Somehow the dream stayed nagging at the edge of my consciousness.

The doorbell ringing caught me as I readied my lunch. I was already late.

Annoyance crawled through my gut as I opened the door. The man on the doorstep was tall. He was older and Hispanic; dressed in a sharp suit and wearing a friendly smile.

I lifted one eyebrow. "Can I help you?"

He pulled what looked like a wallet from his suit jacket pocket and opened it exposing a badge. "My name is Detective Raul Hernandez and I'm with the Santa Carla Homicide division. Do you have a minute?"

My throat closed up. _What the hell is going on?_

I nodded and stepped aside to allow him in. "What is this about?"

"Tiffany Jackson," Detective Hernandez replied succinctly. "We have information you and a friend were seen speaking to Miss Jackson outside _The Rib Shack_ the evening she disappeared. I'd like to speak to you about it."

Swallowing the sudden lump in my throat, I nodded. "Sure."

He gave me a nod. "Do you know Miss Jackson?"

"No," I stated. "I'd never seen her before Marko and I ran into her outside."

Detective Hernandez had pulled a pad and pen from his pocket; busily scrawling notes as we spoke. "What is Marko's last name?"

"Smith."

"What kind of discussion was Mr. Smith having with Miss Jackson?"

A slimy feeling crawled over me. It was very apparent to me there must have been cameras in the area. Still, informing on others wasn't kosher in my book. "Miss Jackson was extremely unhappy seeing Marko with me. She cussed him out over it."

Hernandez raised one eyebrow. "And how did Mr. Smith react to her behavior?"

"Surprisingly calm," I retorted. "He gave me a ride home."

He finished writing before shoving the pad and pen in his jacket pocket. "I may have some additional questions for you, Miss Martin. Please don't leave the Santa Carla area in the next few weeks."

I waited until he was on the porch before speaking. "How did you know I was at _The Rib Shack_?"

"Facial recognition software is not science fiction. We matched your image from a camera in the area to your driver's license," Hernandez responded before waving to me as he descended the stairs. "Have a good day, Miss Martin."

Dumbfounded, I watched him go.

* * *

The day proved surprisingly good after the incredibly lousy start.

 _Graceful Pottery and Ceramics_ was now open for business. By the time closing rolled around I sold a full set of dishware, three pitchers, and some decorative tiles. For an unadvertised store opening the sales weren't half bad!

Nightfall was reaching inky fingers across the sky when I finally was ready to leave.

I was torn.

The mere idea of seeing Marko or the others downright terrified me yet I wanted to let Marko know the police were asking about him. Chewing my lip I stood immobile until the sun sank on the western horizon. The ticking of the clock was as loud as an explosion to me as I stood in darkness watching _Smith Bros._ at the end of the road for signs of life.

Pale golden light finally flicked on in the thin windows.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my purse before heading out.

My booted feet moving against the road echoed in my ears against the relative silence the street offered after dark. With each step toward my heart thundered. Fear squirted through my veins along with blood leaving me near breathless by the time I reached the building.

The gate had been opened so I continued straight to the door.

With a deep breath, I rapped on the door.

Male voices inside lulled and suddenly the door opened.

The light blinded me and I blinked rapidly as tears filled my eyes.

"Well," David drawled slowly. "If it isn't little Miss Grace! Marko! Your woman is here."

"Marko and I aren't dating," I interjected.

He stopped in the door; a shadow figure nightmares were made of. "That so? Could have fooled me." The words were spat out in a venomous tone before David headed back inside.

Marko filled the space in the doorway vacated by David. My eyes adjusted to the light just enough to see his features. He wore an expression of concern as he stared me down. "You wanna come in?"

"Can we talk outside?"

He nodded and stepped outside pulling the door closed behind him. "What's going on, Grace? You're pale as death."

Pushing my hair back with both hands, I sucked in a deep breath before exhaling. "Do you know what happened to your friend Tiffany?"

Marko's brow furrowed. "I heard on the radio. Look, I didn't have anything to do with that."

For some reason, I believed the sincerity in his voice. "The Santa Carla Police Department disagrees with you. They sent a homicide detective to my house."

He stared as a frown etched over his mouth into a look of extreme displeasure. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to go through that."

"It's okay," I muttered before looking toward the end of the street. "I need to get going. The last bus of the night will be coming soon."

Marko took a step toward me. "I can give you a ride."

Shaking my head, I backed away. "No thanks. I'm good."

A coolness settled over him and he hooked his thumbs into the empty belt loops of his jeans. "Be careful, Grace. I'll check on you tomorrow night."

I smiled and nodded before starting down the street. Before I turned the corner I looked back to see Marko leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest just watching me. Swallowing down my fear I hurried to the bus stop.

Whether or not I spent time with Marko again was very much in question.

* * *

Thanks for reviewing: FlowerChild23, LostInSantaCarla3, IsabelleBrown, Chantal, Guest, xXx Tinkies xXx, and Franny.

And thanks for making the story a favorite and following: KatieWoo, LittleAmericanPsycho08241995, YukiTenshi777, xxLiveLoveReadxx, OpalOf, simplyxlovely, xXx Tinkies xXx


	8. Chapter 8

**Quick AN:** I'm sorry that I haven't updated for so long. As many readers are aware my infant son was sick. I didn't anticipate how long he would be ill. The last few weeks I was on vacation and that's a good thing - my life is starting to get back to normal. Updating should be on a regular basis now. My apologies to all of you.

* * *

The next day was light on sales so I closed the store a few hours early in order to work on my pottery. Clay coated me up to the elbows - embedded deep beneath my nails – as darkness fell. The pitcher taking form on the wheel was pleasing enough for me to cover it with a damp towel.

No sooner than I stood did hammering start on the front door.

Scooping up a rag, I began wiping my hands as I strolled to the door. A sigh escaped my throat to see none other than Marko on the other side of the glass.

He was wearing black jeans and a navy-colored wife-beater with a _Van Halen_ logo. A smile bent his lips upward as Marko leaned against the door frame. He gave me a slick wave and lifted his eyebrows in question.

I opened the door and we stood only inches apart. "Hey Marko," I continued to rub away the remains of clay with the rag. "What can I do for you?"

Marko's sea-blue eyes touched my face. "I know you're still disturbed about Tiffany and the cops." He hesitated before plunging ahead. "I understand."

I looked away and gazed out at the brightly lit street. "I don't think you do… not entirely."

A cool hand brushed my shoulder. "Maybe not but I get you're upset." Marko was deathly serious when my eyes touched his. "Rightfully so."

"There is something wrong about this situation." I hesitated. "I don't think hanging around David is good for me."

Marko's expression morphed from serious to mirthful in the bat of an eye. He stifled laughter by gnawing at his knuckles; his eyes dancing in merry mischief as he watched me. Marko cleared his throat before shifting to stand straight. "David had nothing to do with Tiffany, I promise you."

Irritation escaped me in a huff. "I'm not saying he hurt Tiffany. I don't like David."

A laugh finally escaped his throat. "My brother isn't so bad once you get to know him."

"David doesn't seem to like me either."

He paused for a moment as though digesting my words. "David can be a prick sometimes but I can promise you that he treats everybody the same." Marko leaned toward me with a gleam in his eyes. "He's most heinous toward people his family likes."

A creeping blush stole across my cheeks as I looked down at Marko. "So he's kind of… testing folks."

Marko gave a nod before leaning against the door frame again. "Exactly." He hesitated before setting his gaze past me. "Can I come in? I'd love to see what you have going on. Star and Maria have been raving about your work."

"Sure," I moved aside and he sauntered in. "Feel free to take a look around. I need to wash my hands."

His expression had changed to playful to deeply serious in the blink of an eye. "Don't be too long," he stated before coming to a stop before a set of dishes.

I hurried into the back and scrubbed my hands until the water in the industrial sink was brackish with the remnants of clay. After drying my hands, I stared in the mirror at my image. My hair was a little wild from humidity so I smoothed it down.

The face staring back at me was mine, yet not.

My skin was so pale the large veins beneath the surface were visible. Deep shadows resided beneath my eyes and under my shirt more bruises had started to appear as though magically. I felt like I was staring at a vision of me ready for a coffin.

Tears burned in my eyes and I blinked them away.

Marko was standing at my pottery wheel contemplating the shrouded work with that strange seriousness of his. He had his hands shoved in his pocket as his eyes met mine. "You are a very talented lady."

"Thank you," I clasped my hands together. "There needs to be more in order to keep this place going but time has not been on my side lately."

He smiled. "You'll get there. Want a ride home? I think the bus route is shut down for the night."

My mind screamed at me to refuse but my heart was drawn to this strange young man with his Cheshire cat smile and eyes filled with experience beyond his years. I nodded. "I would love a ride. Are you sure it's no trouble?"

A sexy chuckle escaped his throat. "I cross my heart. I'm just gonna run back up to the shop for my bike."

Ten minutes later we were zipping down side streets and main thoroughfares. My face was buried in his neck and Marko's laughter decorated the night like fireworks. For the first time in a long while I felt completely and totally free.

* * *

The next three nights saw me accepting rides from Marko. He was a gentleman in every way and never asked to come in. Maria and I met regarding my work being shown in her gallery and we came to an agreement: she would receive a twenty-five percent commission. Overall, things seemed to be going well.

On the fourth day things changed a little.

I had a decent amount of business at the shop. At the end of the day I managed to finish a few more pieces for firing when a sharp rap echoed on the door. No one was expected… the sun hadn't gone down so it wasn't Marko or Star.

My nose wrinkled as I crossed the room.

Detective Raul Hernandez loomed in the glass staring at me with serious eyes. The moment I opened the door he stepped inside. "Do you know Paul Smith?" He asked without preamble.

 _Paul_ … his gorgeous smiling face appeared in my mind.

"Vaguely," I answered with honesty. "I've met him twice but I don't know him in the traditional sense."

Hernandez nodded absently. "We believe he may have been involved with Tiffany Jackson's death."

My mouth literally dropped open. "Paul?!"

He nodded in response.

A laugh was torn from my throat but it faded quickly. As fun-loving and kind as he seemed, Paul also was tall and strong. He did go into the restaurant as Marko and I were leaving… "I don't know what to say."

"Video evidence shows Mr. Smith left _The Rib Shack_ within minutes of Miss Jackson and her friends. I don't believe in coincidence." Hernandez shot a dark look at me. "The department has canvassed this neighborhood and also the Smith residence off Highway 1 with no luck. As a friend of Marko Smith, I'm hoping you'll ask him to have Paul come in to the station to answer a few questions."

My first thought was of cooperation and my second much less noble.

 _Holy shit! Marko and his brothers live on the beach! Property off Highway 1 goes for a damn mint!_

"I'll ask Marko the next time I see him."

Seemingly satisfied, Detective Hernandez bid me a hasty goodbye and left just as the sun sank over the horizon staining the sky with streaks of gold and crimson. Goose pimples broke out along my arms as I went ahead and closed the door.

* * *

Around nine pm a knock sounded on the door of my trailer.

The playful rap told me exactly who was at the door.

I opened up to find Marko smiling at me with raised eyebrows. "Speak of the devil…"

"And he shall appear," Marko finished with a hint of laughter in his voice. "So did you call for me?"

Despite my best efforts, a genuine smile crept over my lips. "No but I'm still glad to see you."

He wagged his eyebrows. "How about a ride? I was thinking a walk on a moonlit beach and dinner for two."

"Can we talk a second?"

Marko nodded and stepped aside to allow me onto the porch. "You look awfully serious."

"Detective Hernandez came to visit me again."

He took on a look of irritation and dragged a hand through his hair. "Oh shit. This guy isn't going to quit."

I sighed. "To be honest, I don't think so."

Marko's eyes met mine. "What did he say to you about me this time?"

"Actually he didn't say anything about you." I paused and watched as Marko's eyes grew stormy. "Hernandez wants Paul to come down to the station. He thinks Paul is responsible for Tiffany's death."

A muscle jerked in his cheek. He turned toward the street; shoving his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. "Oh for fuck's sake," Marko hissed. "I need to talk to David." He glanced at me with an apologetic expression. "I want to bring you out but not with this garbage hanging over us."

Before I could respond a pair of strong hands clasped the sides of my head.

Marko angled his head up and pressed his mouth against mine. The silken coolness of his lips was set off by the white hot passion with which he explored my flesh with his. Every sweep of his mouth drew me in deeper until I wasn't sure where I started and Marko began.

One thing was certain – this twenty-something man had skill at kissing making me weak in the knees.

Never in my life had my body tingled and burned as it did now from just a simple kiss.

Marko pulled back with glittering eyes and swept loose locks of hair over my ears. "I'm going to take care of this. Promise you'll go out with me tomorrow night."

Still breathless, I managed a nod.

"That's my girl," Marko whispered before drawing back. "I gotta go."

Without so much as another look in my direction, Marko sped toward his motorcycle. Within a minute he was roaring off into the night with the wind ripping at his clothes.

I folded my arms over my chest and enjoyed the quiet of the night broken only by the sound of crickets chirping and the faraway sound of waves crashing against the shore. In the moment when I was ready to head inside, I noticed movement at my neighbor's trailer.

The blind in the window beside the door was pulled up and I could barely make out Dr. Aronsky's figure.

A shiver ran down my spine at the thought of being so blatantly spied on. Rubbing my arms, I ran inside and with great care checked, and double-checked; to be sure I locked the doors.

* * *

The next day I decided to play hooky. Instead of going to work, I decided to spend the day at the beach. Hours passed with the sun baking my skin a pale golden shade it never once attained in the mountains of Colorado. I read a cheap trashy romance and loved every moment.

A chill was in the air as the sun set.

I no sooner stepped inside my trailer and the last dying rays dipped below the horizon leaving the sky stained plum and crimson. Peeling off my swimsuit, I took a quick shower. Since I had no idea what Marko planned I decided on casual dress.

I slipped into a pair of jeans and my well-loved _Duran Duran_ t-shirt gifted to me as a twelve year old. My cousin sent it to me after she attended a concert. Though the shirt was too big at the time, I kept it and only wore it on special occasions once I grew into it.

A little mascara and a swipe of rose-colored lip gloss and I was good to go.

Gentle rapping started on the door.

Grabbing my purse, I threw open the door. "Hey Marko…" The smile on my face died. "I… David."

"Boo," David stated with a straight face as he leaned against the doorframe. "Surprised to see me, huh?"

I nodded. "Something like that."

He smirked and straightened his body. "Marko is a little busy at the moment. He's going to meet us."

"Where are we going?"

"The beach," David stated with a gleam in his eye. "You might want to bring a jacket and appropriate footwear." He glanced at my high-heeled sandals with distaste. "I'll just wait for you on the bike."

I gave a nod and watched as he retreated. With great swiftness I grabbed a khaki-colored jacket crafted from hemp denim and kicked off the sandals. I slipped on a pair of chocolate leather boots before dashing out the door – being sure to lock it.

The thought of Dr. Aronsky spying on Marko and I still gave me the creeps.

David was staring up at the full moon suspended in the sky like a hand cut globe crafted of silvery-white crystal. "Beautiful isn't it?" He spoke without looking at me.

"Very," I agreed in a quiet voice.

He was silent for a beat longer before speaking again. "Do you enjoy the night?"

I'd never really given much thought to nighttime hours. The sun I loved with a passion and bemoaned my fate of being trapped indoors behind a desk during my years working at the Denver gallery. Evening was a time to relax before heading to bed for much needed sleep.

"I like the stars and the moon." The words tasted stale with safety on my tongue.

David turned and cocked an eyebrow. "You're not a night owl. I can see as much." A glow of mischief swam in his arctic blue gaze as he studied me closely. "Maybe all that will change. The night is magical."

"And dangerous," I pointed out tartly as he helped me get seated behind him.

A throaty chuckle filled with mirth and another emotion I couldn't identify escaped him. "Danger is part of the mystique darkness entails. Make sure you hang on."

To my horror, I discovered David was ten times more a maniacal driver than Dwayne and Marko combined.

* * *

My fingers were white and bloodless when we arrived at the same cliff Marko had brought me a few weeks earlier. I managed a smile despite wanting to throttle David within an inch of his life. It was although he could sense my suppressed anger.

David shot me a playful grin as he killed the motorcycle engine. "Need help disembarking?"

 _Asshole_ danced on the tip of my tongue.

"I'm fine," I stated as I slipped off the bike on shaky knees. "Thanks for the ride."

His grin grew into a full-fledged cat-eating-the-canary smile as he pocketed the keys and climbed off the motorcycle with supreme arrogance. "Oh you look fine." David gave a snort and shook his head. "It sounds like the gang's all here."

All I could hear was the massive boom of waves crashing against the rocky beach below.

My puzzled expression garnered a genuine smile from the man beside me.

"Concentrate and peel away the cacophony of the water," he advised in a soft voice. "Humans concentrate on whatever sounds are loudest. I always wonder how the species has survived so long."

I raised one eyebrow and listened as David suggested: peeling away the pounding waves. Faint pulses of rock music drifted over me. Strains of _More Than a Feeling_ reached my ears on the breeze. Beyond music mingled male and female laughter rose above Boston's song.

Turning, I smiled at David. "I can hear them."

He merely raised his eyebrows and began walking toward a rickety looking wood staircase. A sign clearly spelled out _'Danger! Do not enter!'_ with weathered 2 by 4 boards hammered into place over the entrance.

Ducking, David cleared the boards. "Are you just going to stand there all night?"

I watched his head disappear as he descended. The thought of using the staircase had my stomach plunging to my knees. Swallowing my fear I followed.

Each step caused such loud creaking I expected to plunge to my death on the rocks below. I grasped the rails in my fists as I descended toward the beach. A bonfire was lit and several figures were cast in shadow by the towering flames. The air was thick with the smell of salt, smoke, and the mouthwatering scent of food cooking.

One of the male figures was standing in a very familiar pose; hands appearing to be looped in his belt.

He broke away from the others as David passed him by and clapped him on the shoulder.

 _Marko._

"You made it," Marko leaned toward me. "Did you enjoy the ride?" He chuckled playfully and wagged his eyebrows.

I couldn't help but smile in return. "I'll just state I prefer your driving to David's."

A sharp, amused bark of laughter escaped his throat before Marko rested his arm around my shoulders. We began walking together in the sand. "I'll be sure to rub David's nose in the fact next chance I get." He sobered and pulled me closer. "You look great, Grace. I'm glad you came."

I stopped before we were in hearing distance from the fire.

Paul's tall lean figure and flowing hair made an unmistakable silhouette against the flames.

"Did Paul talk to Detective Hernandez?" I whispered the words to Marko.

He stepped in front of me and softly rubbed my biceps. The sincerity in his eyes was entrancing. "No but Paul will. Please don't worry about Tiffany and Hernandez – not tonight. I wanted this to be a special time for you and me. The rest of this crap can wait until tomorrow."

I swallowed the sudden knot in my throat. "What happened to Tiffany was violent and horrible…"

Marko cupped my cheek. "I know and I promise you Paul would _never_ hurt you." He stared me in the eye. "Do you trust me?"

For whatever foolish, crazy reason I did trust Marko.

I gave him a single nod.

He exhaled slowly as though relieved. "Good – I'm glad you trust me."

"Okay," I reached out and let my fingers brush a few golden curls back from his forehead. "I'm happy to see you."

Marko snagged my hand bringing it to his mouth. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss against my palm; the heat from his mouth sent prickles of pleasure flushing over my skin. Our eyes were locked as his lips swept across my flesh. The softness of his lips drew a shiver from me.

His gaze took on a clever glow and I knew he was more than aware of how he affected me.

"Yo Marko! Are you going to bring your girl over here or what?" Paul's voice was good-natured but broke the spell between Marko and me.

Marko rolled his eyes before delivering a playful, painless nip to my knuckles before engulfing my hand in his. "Come on. We're having hot dogs, roasted marshmallows, and beer."

My stomach rumbled in response and he laughed as he led me over to the group.

Dwayne was seated in the sand with his long legs akimbo and the delicate Maria in his lap. Both were shrouded in black like a pair of living shadows. Maria's dark head was resting against Dwayne's shoulder; her slim fingers raking through his long midnight hair. Dwayne's back rested against a large beer cooler as he whispered in Maria's ear.

Star was speaking with a young man, no older than sixteen, and smiled at David as he came to stand beside her. There was softness in his cool eyes for just a moment as he pulled a cigarette from behind his ear. David lit the cigarette by holding it over the flames and his expression turned frosty once more.

Paul was drinking a beer with one hand shoved in the pocket of the tight leather pants he sported. "Hey Bro!" Unlike the last few times I'd met Paul – tonight he wasn't smiling. "How you doin' Grace?"

"I'm good," I answered with a soft voice.

Marko released my hand and strolled past Paul; butting a shoulder against Paul's. "Dude did you smoke all the grass?" A snicker ensued as he started to inspect the sticks holding the hot dogs over the fire.

"Screw you!" Paul retorted with a shake of the head before taking a long gulp of beer. "Next time you want grass go find a drug dealer."

I slipped my hands in my pockets. "How are you Paul?"

Bright sky blue eyes met mine. "Shit could be a whole lot better but what the hell? You know? It is what it is."

I refrained from asking Paul about Tiffany or Hernandez. Not only was it not my business, I didn't want to know. Maybe that makes me a self-absorbed jackass. I wanted a little happiness and Marko gave me a quiet sense of fulfillment.

"Why don't you work with Marko and David?"

Paul almost looked relieved by the question. "I like my sanity, girl."

A laugh escaped me.

He grinned in response. "I work for KTSC 93 playing music from the 70's and 80's and a little bit of the 90's before the shit started going downhill."

"I've never heard you."

Paul snorted. "You don't strike me as the type to stay up all night long."

"Oh…"

Marko joined us and slipped his arm around my waist. "Yeah Paul works the graveyard shift the same as the rest of the family."

I nodded and relaxed.

Paul finished his beer. "Guess who I saw the other night?"

Marko simply arched his eyebrows and waited.

"Alan Frog."

A harsh tear of laughter escaped his throat. "No shit! Where the hell did you come across that dirt bag?"

Paul cracked a grin. "He was a few streets down from the boardwalk. The prick has put on a few pounds and gained some weight but it was him. I wonder what the hell he's doing back in Santa Carla."

"Nothing good," Marko replied with a sour grimace. He shook his head and led me toward the fire. "The dogs are nearly done. I'm hungry as hell."

"We all are, hermano," Dwayne drawled with his nose buried in Maria's hair. "What are we going to do, David?"

Star was whispering in David's ear; a grin split his handsome face. Upon hearing Dwayne, David turned reluctantly and took a drag from his cigarette from between his lips. "You need to take Maria out after the bonfire and get her acquainted with the lifestyle."

My mind turned David's words over and picked them apart before landing on: _the lifestyle._

Dwayne nodded. "I'll take care of it. We'll take a drive up to San Jose."

Maria kissed Dwayne's strong, sculpted jaw. "I won't let you down, baby."

He released a low, good-natured chuckle. "You never have, Mi Alma."

Star appeared beside me with the teen she had been speaking with. He was attractive with sandy-brown hair and deep brown eyes. Not as tall as the rest of the guys, he was about Marko's height and slender in build. The black hoodie he wore was hanging off his frame only exacerbating his slight frame.

"Grace this is my friend, Laddie Thompson." She smiled and smoothed her palms over her long, flowing petal pink skirt. "Laddie works for Maria on the weekend and I thought he might be a good fit to man your store in the evening."

Laddie wore a nervous smile as he held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Grace."

I took his hand and was surprised that his skin was as cool as Star and Marko's. "Hey Laddie. You must have experience in running a cash register and with art."

"Yes ma'am," Laddie ducked his head with a blush staining his cheeks. "I understand closing procedures and night drops at the bank too."

A smile split my face. "That's awesome! Can you come by tomorrow night?"

"Sure," he responded with a happy smile.

David released a cool laugh. "Marko?"

He turned from the sticks holding roasting hot dogs. "Yeah?"

"Bring the booze out," David ordered before returning to his cigarette.

Star frowned. "David…"

He arched one eyebrow. "No time like the present."

Marko's face darkened but he gave a short nod before jogging toward a jagged cave opening in the rocks boasting signs with _No Trespassing_ and _Danger_. The moment he disappeared I turned to find David watching me intently.

"I'm not big on booze," I stated. "I'm fine with beer."

David merely laughed again. "Bloody Mary's for everyone – including you. A good stiff drink will do you good, kid."

The fact a guy in his early twenties referred to me as a kid was shocking.

I just shook my head.

Star stepped in front of me. There was intensity in her eyes I found disturbing. "You don't have to drink with us if you don't want to."

"Star…" David's voice was chilling with a warning in the depths of his tone.

She stared at the ground a moment before returning to David's side. The pair stared at one another as though telepathy was taking place. He was dominant and bore down on Star who sighed and shook her head before staring out at the ocean.

I took a step toward Star.

"Leave her be," Paul advised softly. "She needs to be alone."

Marko appeared in the light with a bottle crafted of dark glass and heavily bejeweled. The look of the container was Bohemian and reminded me of something I couldn't quite put my finger on. He grinned and waved the bottle. "Are you up for a drink?"

My lip curled. "What is it and why do you have it stashed in a cave?"

Paul laughed and turned his gaze back on the fire. "Girl it's the biggest mind trip you'll ever take."

Marko wore a mild expression. "This is a rare wine vintage. We keep it here because no one ever goes in that cave. The wine stores well and we don't get ripped off."

David loomed over Marko's shoulder. "There is always a reason for everything we decide to do."

"I don't like wine," I mumbled.

A sharp grin tore across David's mouth. "Fair enough. Far be it for me to force a lady to do something against her will." He clapped his hands together. "Gentlemen, I think we should leave these two love birds alone."

I was startled at David's sudden joviality. "What about your cook out? You haven't eaten anything yet…"

"Don't worry about it," David snickered before walking toward the stairs. Laddie fell into line behind him. "We'll grab our own grub and be far more satisfied with it. Come on Star."

Star's hands clenched into fists before she turned and followed David.

Dwayne and Maria whispered to one another before ascending the stairs behind the others.

I turned in place looking for Paul but he was completely gone. "Where did Paul go?"

Marko shrugged. "He comes and goes at will. I'm sure he went to find dinner just like the others."

My heart fluttered in my chest like a butterfly. "I guess we are all alone."

Marko stepped in front of me wearing a subtle, sly smile. "We are indeed."

* * *

Thank you for reviewing: ShiplessOceans, xXx Tinkies xXx, FlowerChild23, Chantal, IsabelleBrown, J. Berry Smith, wicked howl, Samm, LostInSantaCarla3, MurderIsMyPasstime, Rivinia1, and Shrugs

Thank you for listing the story as a favorite: LadyPolgara70, Lexxxloubell, Plucking Daisies, Rivinia1, Shrugs, dontunderstand, gypsyxo, lillisa34

Thank you for following the story: AlyssalovesMarko, Gaibriel Minuit Noire, HopeSerenityFaith, Lexxxloubell, Rvinia 1, dontunderstand, gypsyxo, lillisa34,


	9. Chapter 9

I was alone with Marko… _completely_ alone.

Daydreams of all the raunchy, naughty things I wanted to do to Marko could conceivably happen now. Perhaps in the next instant or twenty minutes we might be tangled together in passion. I felt my heart thump painfully in my chest.

Marko smiled as he settled his hands on his hips. "Are you hungry?"

A blush crawled over my cheeks in response. "Uh… yeah."

He lifted one eyebrow; his smile growing by leaps and bounds. "Come on over to the fire and we'll get you fed."

The most disturbing sensation came over me that Marko knew my thoughts – and that food wasn't on my mind any longer. Shrugging away the sensation, I smiled and followed him over. He made two hotdogs wrapped in buns too small for the job.

"Sorry," Marko stated as he handed me the plate. "Paul did the shopping. Ketchup, mustard, or both? We're a little light on the condiments."

"Mustard."

He grinned and handed me the squeeze bottle. "I knew it by looking at you. I can always tell a mustard girl."

"That means something?"

"Mustard and onions rock. It's the sign of good taste," Marko said with enthusiasm as he pulled two bottles of beer from the cooler. "Sometimes I even crave a little chopped jalapeno just for kicks."

I was seated cross-legged in the sand when he plopped down beside me with the beers in one hand. "Oh my god – jalapeno poppers and empanadas with tequila are to die for."

A deep chuckle escaped him. "I like a girl with an appetite." He twisted off the beer caps before reaching over to snag his hot dog. "In fact that sounds so damn good I'm gonna jones for empanadas all week."

The lonely sound of the waves crashing on the shore tore a sigh from me.

"This is a beautiful spot. I'm surprised it isn't inundated with tourists and locals."

Marko tore into his food with gusto. He ate with a thoughtful look on his face while his eyes touched the inky water beyond the bonfire. Only when his mouth was empty did he answer. "That's not gonna happen any time soon."

I blinked. "Why not?"

"There was a rash of disappearances and murders here in the 80's." He gave a half-shrug before taking a swig of beer.

My heart began pounding fiercely. "Are you shitting me?"

Marko shook his head. "Nope. The Point has a bad reputation and most folks stay away or only visit during the day. There was even a crazy rumor about vampires living in the cave."

I laughed. "Oh yeah… vampires. I can't wait to call my father and tell him all about it. That's probably the one rumor he never heard about Santa Carla when we lived here." Amused instead of frightened, I began eating.

We were quiet for a long time until each of us finished another hot dog and our beers were nearly gone.

Marko shoved his empty bottle into the sand to stabilize it and flopped back; his arms folded under his head and his eyes on the stars high above. "I take it you don't believe in the supernatural."

I shrugged and lay down beside him so our shoulders touched. The heat from the fire was evaporating as the flames began to die down. My eyes landed on the constellation of Leo and I studied it closely as I spoke, "I believe everything living has a soul and I believe when we die we turn into energy. I guess that's pretty much the end of my belief in the supernatural."

"So vampires, ghosts, and werewolves…"

The look on his face when I glanced at him was so intense I nearly moved away. "I file those beliefs under hooey. If there was legitimately a way to live forever – even as a vampire – some soulless, greedy corporation would have made the discovery by now."

His eyebrows arched. "You are jaded as hell."

"Realistic more like," I retorted before giving him the raspberry.

Marko chuckled before looking up at the stars again. "Let's say just for the sake of argument that vampires existed. Doesn't the idea of living forever appeal to you?"

The thought was laughable. Immortal beings did not exist. Period. "To be honest no it doesn't."

"Why?" Marko sounded perplexed. "Most of humanity is scrambling to escape death and you're okay with the end result of this cancer. I can't figure you out."

I turned on my side, cushioning my head with one arm, and studied him closely. He was so young still despite his strange maturity and the old soul I sensed swimming beneath his skin. "Vampires kill people, right?"

Marko gave a nod.

"There is your answer. In a nutshell, I'm not someone that could kill another person just so I could keep living decade after decade after decade. If someone physically attacks me, I defend myself with no qualms." I managed a bitter smile. "Besides the moral question of murder the idea of eating blood makes me queasy."

He was silent a moment before speaking. "Ironic you are disgusted by blood but dying from blood cancer."

"Life is funny like that."

Marko released a deep sigh. "Ain't that the truth?" He peeped in my direction. "Want to go for a ride?"

I smiled. "Sure."

He moved gracefully to his feet and brushed the sand from his jeans before extending his hand to me. "Come on."

I shivered as my flesh met his and he pulled me to my feet as easily. Marko kicked sand over the fire in order to douse the rest of the flames. He shoved a few items into the cooler before hauling it into the cave.

When he returned, Marko rested his arm around my waist as he led me toward those rickety stairs clinging to the sheer rock cliff face.

"What about your cooler?"

"Ah," he scoffed softly. "Don't worry about it. Paul will swing around later. No one is going to steal it."

Satisfied, I followed along.

* * *

The drive was leisurely considering Marko was controlling the motorcycle. He brought me home on a route which skimmed the shore all the way. There were occasional bonfires but otherwise the beaches seemed deserted and the streets much the same.

We arrived at my house with wind-ruffled hair and skin chilled by the kiss of night.

I slipped from the bike and surreptitiously glanced at my neighbor's driveway. Aronsky's car was gone. A sense of relief flooded me. "Do you want to come in?"

Marko raised one eyebrow. "Are you sure?" The longing in the question and deepening tone of his voice left no doubt his desire.

My neighbors were mostly sleeping at this hour with a few gone entirely. The time was right.

"Come in when you park the bike."

Marko's eyes took on a deceptively sleepy expression as he watched me walk back up toward my steps; the sharp gleam caught by the moon contradicted his easy going persona.

"I'll leave the door open."

He gave me a nod and slipped off the motorcycle.

I turned and hurried up the steps. Within two minutes I had the living room lights on with the blinds closed. I just stored my purse in the closet when the door closed heavily behind me.

My heart slammed against my breastbone as I turned.

Marko was leaning against the door. He turned the bolt lock with one hand all the while watching me with burning eyes. "You're beautiful," Marko took a step forward with determination in his gaze. "I couldn't stop looking at you tonight."

A thrum buzzed through my body; electricity skated along my skin the closer he came.

"I want to kiss you," he whispered the words against my lips.

The sheer warmth between us blossomed and prickles of heat radiated out over my body.

I lowered my head and brushed my lips over his.

A groan escaped his throat as he buried his hands deep into my hair. Marko pulled me against him while conquering my mouth with his. He had skill when it came to kissing – more so than I could have imagined. He stroked and teased and nibbled until my knees turned to jelly.

Marko seemed to sense my sudden weakness and scooped me up bridal style. He carried me to the sofa and settled with my form draped across his lap. The show of pure strength in the act only turned me on more leaving me burning for him.

He teased my lips with his tongue until I opened my mouth.

We writhed and stroked one another; gasps of passion escaped our throats in tandem along with whispers of exchanged pleasure. Clothes fell away and flesh met flesh.

I never knew true ecstasy before this night.

* * *

 _Marko was pressed against my back sealing me between his body and the sofa back. He let his nimble fingers scoop up strands of my hair before allowing them to fall free. A gust of his breath skated along my ear as he sighed. 'Grace, I don't think I could move if I had to.'_

' _Oh?'_

 _He chuckled at my teasing tone. 'I think you drained my strength when you drained my balls.'_

 _Many women might be offended by such outright frank speech. I didn't mind… it was a turn on._

 _I reached back and let my fingers trail over the cool skin of his naked flank. 'Is that good or bad?'_

 _Marko kissed my shoulder. 'Trust me when I say it's good.' He nestled his face into the space between my shoulder and throat. 'You taste good. I can't get enough of you on my tongue.'_

 _I moaned softly as he began nibbling and gently worrying the skin on my nape with those strong teeth of his. Surprisingly the sensation was not one of pain but intense pleasure. Marko grunted and bit down; letting one hand clasp my hip._

 _A pulling sensation started only intensifying the bliss._

 _My ears picked up a sound – Marko was swallowing._

' _What is this?' I slurred as my eyesight became hazy._

 _A bead of moisture rolled down my clavicle before roaming ever-so-slowly toward my breast. I touched the liquid, smearing it, and brought it into the faint light cast by the lamp._

 _The thick stain on my forefinger was crimson._

 _One thought occurred to me:_ _ **blood.**_

 _I gasped. 'Marko! Stop it!'_

 _He lifted his head almost reluctantly. 'Just chill, Grace. I'm making you mine.'_

 _Sudden heaviness came over me swiftly followed by unconsciousness…_

Bright morning light filtered through the blinds striking my closed eyes.

I winced and unleashed a thunderous groan of disapproval. "Shit no." I struggled to sit up and thrust my hands through tangled hair. "Staying up late – no more!"

Memory swam to the surface as I stood up.

 _Marko, biting, blood…_

My hand crept up as though it possessed a mind and my fingers brushed the spot Marko had bitten. I hurried on shaky legs to the bathroom. With a flick of the switch the mirror blazed into view as I blinked against the bright intrusion of fluorescence.

I half-turned and brushed my hair aside to study the right side of my nape.

Nothing but a barely discernible bruise decorated the skin Marko bit. Or did he bite me at all?

I frowned and stared at my reflection. "Marko?"

My voice echoed hollowly throughout the house.

Hurrying from the room, I ducked my head into the bedroom. Empty. I moved back to the living room and strolled toward the kitchen. Silence reigned in the trailer as though I stood in a tomb instead of a home.

A piece of paper was carefully placed on the kitchen counter.

I picked it up; my brow furrowed.

 _Grace,_

 _I gotta go. Sorry you had to wake up and find me gone. The next time we get together I promise it won't be this way._

 _Marko_

There was nothing sweet or gooey about Marko. I didn't expect to find sentiment in his note. Still, I smiled and set the piece of paper back down before heading to shower and get ready for the day.

* * *

The rest of the day passed in a haze.

I felt strange – a little weak as though I was coming down with the flu. I manned the store selling a decent amount of inventory between long moments of working at the wheel. Back and forth a rhythm was established and the time passed pleasantly despite my feeling weak.

Around five I called Maria's gallery.

"Hello?" The young man on the phone was Adrian, Maria's personal assistant.

I cleared my throat. "This is Grace Martin. Is Maria available?"

Adrian released a huff of impatience. "Maria is on a work hiatus for the next week. She left me a message after she returns she'll be working in the evening only. I'm scrambling to reach artists and gallery patrons. I must have missed you. Please accept my apologies."

My brow knotted at the news. "Thanks."

Maria was going to be working exclusively at night? What the hell? Is this what David meant by _'the lifestyle'_?

No sooner did I hang up the phone than the door opened admitting young Laddie Thompson. He smiled at me. "Is this a good time?"

I gave a nod and beckoned him further inside. "Come on in."

He, at least, seemed perfectly capable of walking around during the day. Though he sported a large pair of aviator sunglasses in which I could see my own reflection. Otherwise he was dressed as any other teen.

"Do you mind working under the table?" I asked bluntly. "I don't want to be bothered with the stress of taxes and so forth."

Laddie grinned. "Not a problem."

I motioned to the sunglasses he still hadn't removed. "I like looking people in the eye. No offense or anything."

He seemed startled but removed the sunglasses with great reluctance. "Sorry." Laddie blinked rapidly as though his eyes stung in the bright light flooding through the windows.

"Please don't apologize. Let me show you some of the merchandise you'll be selling."

I turned and led him through the shop explaining the different pieces and how they were created. Laddie was so quiet all I heard was his breathing and sneakers shuffling against the floor. So I turned my head.

Those dark eyes Laddie possessed were fixated on a very specific part of my anatomy – the exact place Marko left a tiny bruise on my nape. He wore an expression bordering on intense concentration mingled with solemn respect.

I subconsciously reached up to caress the spot.

Instantly Laddie blinked and looked away; his cheeks glowing scarlet. "Sorry."

I felt pity for his embarrassment and quickly moved along to the register and deposit system I had in place.

We chatted and he was a very intelligent young man. Rather quiet, but fitted with a devilish sense of humor which struck at the oddest moments. The day ended with us shaking hands with the agreement Laddie would start work on Friday night.

Exhausted, I decided it was time to close up.

* * *

I was standing at the bus stop when a familiar candy apple red metallic sports car pulled up. A sweet smiling face stared up at me from the driver's seat. None other than Star in unusually sedate black clothes was behind the wheel.

"How about a ride?" She asked with a slight grin.

Tonight the bus stop was abandoned.

I shrugged and grinned before climbing in the passenger seat. "Just promise me you don't drive like our friends the Smith Brothers."

A gentle laugh filled with genuine amusement escaped her throat. "I'm like a grandma in slow motion compared to the guys." Star waited until I was buckled up before pulling away from the curb. The car smelled of patchouli and vaguely of cotton candy. "How did it go with Marko?"

The question was nonchalant but I suspected Star might have a good idea.

I studied my nails instead of looking in her direction. "Can I be blunt?"

Star was quiet a moment before speaking; her voice filled with suppressed laughter. "Please do. Not much makes me blush anymore."

"We had sex," I admitted in a gush. "This wasn't just any kind of sex… it was the best sex of my life."

She was watching the road but I almost sensed she was internally editing her comments _before_ speaking. "Marko is a handsome guy. I can't knock you for enjoying his company." Star paused before making a turn and finding her voice again. "Do you care about him?"

My eyes strayed to the passenger window and I watched the streetlights streaking by as she drove. The question carried so much weight but the answer even more. "Yeah," I managed to croak. "I do care for Marko."

Star clicked her tongue. "That's not a bad thing."

Considering I was talking to someone twenty years younger than me, I felt like I was holding a conversation with a wise aunt my elder by many years. A deep sense of guilt kicked in for the secret I clutched desperately with both hands.

"I have leukemia, Star. I'm not going to be around to enjoy Marko's company much longer."

The car drifted into the parking lot of a corner bodega and stopped.

I turned to find Star staring at me with tears in her eyes.

She reached out and took my hand in hers. "I'm so sorry."

Naked kindness, though not pity, was displayed on her pretty face.

I swallowed the sudden lump forming in my throat. "I don't want to get attached to Marko because I already know the ending waiting for me. Marko is young and he is so full of life…" I faltered before rushing on. "He deserves to be happy and he's not going to find that with me. Not in the long run at least."

"Marko is full grown," Star stated with shocking firmness. "Please let him have the courtesy of making that decision."

Biting my bottom lip, I nodded.

Star squeezed my hand once and released me before turning her attention back to driving.

* * *

Tossing and turning amidst a tangle of sweaty sheets was like being tortured.

I forced my body into a sitting position before wiping perspiration from my forehead. The air was strangely cool in the trailer but I felt like I was on fire. I stood and hobbled out into the darkness of the living room.

My 'nightgown' was just a sundress from my early twenties of soft cotton too worn and faded to see the light of day in public. Wearing it to bed was the perfect solution since I loved the damn thing and didn't want to chuck it in the trash.

I stood near the entrance to the kitchen with both hands pressed against my temples.

' _Grace…'_

My body turned ice cold.

The voice addressing me was achingly familiar and one I hadn't heard in years.

"Mom?" I spoke the word aloud while silently cursing myself as mad.

Again the softness of my mother's voice touched my ears as though from a distance. _'Grace…'_

I headed into the kitchen and looked outside. My heart stopped.

There standing just beyond Aronsky's trailer in the street was a familiar figure standing in a pool of yellow light cast by the streetlamp overhead. She was trim and curvy but not overly so with perfectly coiffed hair the same shade as mine. A snappy navy and white dress of feminine flounces hugged her body in a style she once embraced.

My eyes beheld the figure of my mother.

Janet Martin was standing in the street staring straight at me like her vision could penetrate the shadows between us. She extended her hands showing off a perfect manicure of long, blood red nails. _'Come to me, Grace. I've waited so long for you to return home.'_

Mom's mouth never moved.

Deep inside primal emotion tunneled through my gut before crawling up my throat and emerging in a long, thin scream of absolute horror.

Lights started popping on in the trailers around me including Aronsky's as my screams continued unabated.

My lungs couldn't take the abuse.

The scream was cut off by painful hacking which transitioned into choking as blood spewed forth between my lips and urine escaped my bladder. The last thing I remember was the back of my head connecting with the hard floor as my body collapsed.

* * *

Wow! Thanks for the reviews and love: xXx Tinkies xXx, Ersebeth Bathory, LostInSantaCarla3, FlowerChild23, AngelaAngieAng, Chantal, Liz, ShiplessOceans, and J Berry Smith.


	10. Chapter 10

Bright white light was piercing my eyelids. I groaned and shifted expecting to feel hard flooring beneath me. Instead a relatively soft mattress cushioned my body. I tugged and pain radiated in my right arm.

"No honey," A gentle female voice warned. "You're going to pull out your IV and we don't want that."

My eyes fluttered open and I winced as light poured into my eyes from the overhead fixture. A shadow leaned over me and the face of an older woman swam into view. It felt like someone had stuffed cotton balls into my mouth.

"What happened?" I croaked out.

She began checking the IV pumping fluids into my body. Her nimble fingers danced over skin, tubing, and tape alike. "I take it you don't remember, Miss Martin."

My eyebrows knotted as I grasped at something…

 _Mom._

Fear surged through me like a wave; my heart began hammering. Right on time the heart monitor began beeping madly.

The nurse frowned. "Your neighbor, Dr. Aronsky, found you unconscious on your kitchen floor in a puddle of urine with a bloodied head. You took quite a hit."

 _How could my mother be in the street? Better question – how could I hear her speak in my mind?_

Delusion was the only answer. I was sick the day after my encounter with Marko. Sickness mixed with stress was potent as any sleight of hand even the best magician could pull off.

"I'm embarrassed," I muttered. "How terrible for Dr. Aronsky."

The nurse gave a murmur before finishing with my arm. "Now that you are awake I'll get your doctor. I expect he'd like a word with you."

She shuffled out of the room before I could ask another question.

Minutes later a distinguished looking man in his mid-fifties with cropped silver hair entered the room. He gave me a smile meant to reassure as he adjusted his eyeglasses. "Miss Martin, I'm Dr. Scarletti. I'm going to examine you now that you are conscious."

"Okay," I whispered.

Dr. Scarletti asked me a series of questions: Who was the current president? What month and year was it? Could I state my full name?

Several answers later the doctor seemed pleased as he moved to stand at the foot of my bed.

"I think you need to seriously consider beginning treatment for the leukemia," Dr. Scarletti's expression turned grave. "We found your blood volume to be off and the tests we performed show your white cell count is through the roof. The bruises and fainting are just going to get worse, Miss Martin."

Discovering I had been in the hospital a full twenty-four hours was shocking.

I forced my body to sit up. "I want to go home."

He frowned. "Leaving the hospital without consulting an oncologist would be a mistake…"

"It's my mistake to make," I ground out from between my teeth. "I want to leave."

Dr. Scarletti flushed an ugly shade of red. "I'll prepare the discharge paperwork."

I waited until he left before reaching out for the phone on the nightstand. No purse or personal effects equaled no ride home. Walking was out of the question in my shape. I dialed a familiar number and waited as the phone rang endlessly.

Finally I was connected.

David's cool voice spoke smoothly. _'Smith Brothers is currently closed. Leave us a message and we'll get back to you.'_

After the beep I dived in trying to keep my voice calm. "Marko this is Grace. I'm at Santa Carla General Hospital. Can you pick me up when you get this message? I need to get out of here and I don't have a ride."

After hanging up I simply waited for the discharge papers to arrive.

* * *

Two hours crawled by as I sat in the hospital lobby waiting wrapped up in a thin hospital robe with only my stained nightgown underneath.

Marko charged through the doors like a man on fire. He headed straight for me; his face was an impassive mask. Tonight he wore black jeans with matching leather motorcycle boots and a Henley style shirt printed with different album covers of the _Eagles._

"Grace!" He called out as he knelt beside me. "Are you okay?"

I nodded as he helped me up. "I'm a little shaky but otherwise I'm fine."

The air outside was cool and scented by the saltiness of the ocean along with traces of food from different restaurants. Instead of the usual motorcycle, Marko led me to a beat-up old Jeep. He assisted getting me inside before rounding the vehicle and slipping behind the wheel.

"I'll bring you home."

I laid my hand over his and Marko's eyes flashed to mine with question lurking in the ocean-blue depths. "After I pack a bag and grab my purse I want to go to a hotel."

Marko was silent a moment. "You're scared."

Denial was on the tip of my tongue. Instead of bothering with a lie, I decided the truth was best. "Yes."

He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly as though grasping desperately to maintain his temper. "Tell me what happened."

Running my hands through my hair, I shook my head before meeting his gaze head on. "I saw my mother outside the house. She was calling me but in my mind not with a voice. Marko maybe I'm going nuts – she wasn't any older than she was the day she left Denver."

He was composed but his lips became a thin line.

"I know it sounds crazy…"

"I don't think you're crazy," Marko stated bluntly. He reached out and took one of my hands; squeezing gently. "You're not going to a hotel. I want you to come home with me."

"Marko…" The protest died on my lips at the stubborn look sliding over his face. "Okay."

He nodded and started the Jeep.

* * *

The door to the trailer had been shut up and locked. Without my keys I was screwed.

Luckily Marko was able to jimmy my bedroom window and slide in. He let me in the front door and returned to lock up the window while I packed a bag. On the counter my landlord left a note I owed $575.00 in damages to replace the door. It seemed Dr. Aronsky broke it down in his haste to help me the night before.

Marko helped me back to the jeep and settled my purse and suitcase in the back seat before returning to lock my front door. He slid behind the wheel and glanced in my direction as he turned over the engine.

"Are you hungry?"

"Thirsty mainly."

Marko nodded. "We'll stop and grab some burgers anyway. It's too late for cooking."

Thirty minutes later – the jeep stuffed with bags of _In and Out_ – Marko pulled off Highway 1 onto a decrepit old road loaded with signs proclaiming: _Private, No Entry, Trespassers will be Shot, and Beware of the Dogs._

The last one fascinated me as I struggled to keep a hold on our drink containers while we bounced down the road. "You have dogs?"

He snickered but kept his eyes firmly on the pot-hole infested path which masqueraded as a driveway. "We all have a dog. Why are you so surprised?"

I gasped and grunted as the jeep bounced to a stop before a massive gate. "You don't seem like the dog sort."

Marko grinned at me before holding his hand up to a display. The enormous entrance was crafted of stainless steel and oak; a six foot high fence topped with what appeared to be razor-sharp spikes looping out into the dark on either side.

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

"Fair enough," I countered.

The display turned from red to green and there was a deep set of clicks like locks disengaging before the doors of the gate swung inward.

Marko proceeded at a steady pace and the driveway smoothed out a little. _Very little._

"You have a palm scanner?"

He nodded. "It reads fingerprints and the whole nine yards. We have money and throwing some of it toward top notch security seems the smart thing to do." Marko was pale in the moonlight. "A few years back where we used to live there was a break-in."

I sipped at my coke. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Not as sorry as one of the little bastards ended up," Marko ground out.

Before I could ask the trees gave way to a sweeping, massive plot of land bowing at gentle angles toward the cliffs and ocean in the distance. This wasn't just a house – these guys lived in a _compound._

Five different homes dotted the land. None mansions as I'd imagined. Instead they were a grouping of old sea cottages left over from the Victorian era when the wealthy from San Francisco started building summer homes to escape the fetid heat of the city. Though moonlight made it difficult to tell, it appeared each house was a different color and trimmed with shutters and gingerbread scrolls.

I stared and something crept into my mind… a memory left over from the scant history I was taught at Kennedy Elementary in beautiful downtown Santa Carla.

"This looks like the Harlow Homestead."

Josiah Harlow was a rich lawyer from San Francisco. In 1902 he built several houses for family and friends close to Santa Carla. In 1903 after losing most of his fortune due to bad financial speculation, Harlow invited his entire family to their summer cottages. He then stalked and murdered twelve people with a kitchen axe.

Marko laughed. "You know your history. Don't worry – no ghosts. I promise you."

My stomach sank until I was certain it touched my ankles. "Why would you guys buy such a morbid piece of property?"

He stopped in front of the closest cottage and turned off the engine. No lights were on in any but the most distant of the houses. "Simple – we needed a place to live and this place was dirt cheap. No one wanted the property. The reputation was too unsavory. Hell the place was abandoned for years. Literally. No one lived here since 1951 until we bought it." Marko hopped out and came around the vehicle. "It took the five of us three years to renovate all the cottages."

I was glad to get out of the jeep.

While Marko was busy with my bag, I grabbed the food and drinks.

Playful barking and the sound of running swiftly ensued before five dogs emerged from the darkness.

The dogs were all different breeds: a German Shepard, Pitbull, Doberman, Mastiff, and… Cocker Spaniel. They barked and danced around us with wagging tails and eyes that gleamed with pleasure.

Marko stood and cocked his head. "I bet you five bucks you won't be able to tell which is mine."

"You're on," I studied each dog in turn before my eyes landed on the most likely suspect. "The Pitbull."

He laughed with genuine mirth. "No way! You owe me five smackers, girl. That's Violet and she belongs to Star."

My eyes nearly popped out of my head at the thought of Star with the muscle bound gray creature. "Are you serious?"

"As death," he intoned with a smirk. "Want to go double or nothing?"

The idea of losing money to someone who was rich didn't set well with me. "Why not?" I stared at the now whining animals. "The Cocker Spaniel."

Marko shook his head and starting walking toward his house. "Now you owe me ten. That's Butch and he's Paul's baby." Marko cast a serious look in my direction. "If you go outside during the day keep away from Paul's place. Looks can be deceiving – Butch is a mean little shit. You might lose a foot."

I hand been in the process of extending my hands toward the pretty little golden dog. As if on cue, he began growling low in his throat while pulling his lips back to showcase an impressive set of very sharp looking teeth.

Quick as my tired body allowed, I pulled back and followed Marko.

Butch released another growl before deciding he had better things to do. He suddenly turned and darted toward the other houses.

"I have no idea which one of these belong to you."

Marko turned on the doorstep and regarded the animals with an upturned brow. "So this is Diablo," he indicated the Doberman. "He belongs to Dwayne. That's Monroe." Marko pointed at the German Shepard. "She's David's."

With that, Marko reached out with his free hand to pat the Mastiff which was the most enormous dog of them all. "And this is Jolly."

"So he has a happy disposition," I remarked as the dog glanced at me with a dubious expression.

Marko shook his head and turned to unlock the door. "Nah, I named him that because he reminded me of the _Jolly Green Giant._ "

"From the vegetable commercials?"

"You got it," he opened the door and flicked on a light before stepping inside. "Come in. You look a little piqued."

Jolly preceded me and disappeared past Marko.

I hesitated on the front step under the cute little cupola over the door.

Marko set down my stuff inside before returning. He raised one eyebrow before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "We don't bite." A smile crept over his lips. "Most of the time at least."

Feeling like a complete ass, I managed a nervous smiled before walking into the house. Marko swiftly closed the door and grabbed the takeout like an old pro leaving me with the drink cups.

"Chow time," he stated in a happy voice. "I, for one, am famished."

The interior was as modern as the exterior was charming Victorian. A poured concrete floor gleamed with what appeared to be a serious of gray, white, and black metal flakes giving it the look of highly polished granite. The living area and kitchen were wide open and one space really. Instead of a sofa there was a black leather recliner in one corner with a serious of bright, motley colored bean bag chairs littering the sitting area. A mish-mash of art decorated the walls: Pollack, Warhol, and a few other colorful pieces by artists I didn't know.

A flat screen dominated one wall over a fieldstone fireplace with an X-Box and stack of video games directly on the floor beneath.

The kitchen was scrupulously clean. Like the living area the same floor flowed throughout with modern black cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and white marble countertops. He didn't have a dining table but tall chairs circled the kitchen island. Close to the back door was a dog bed large enough to accommodate Jolly and the Mastiff was currently taking advantage.

"Get it while it's hot, girl," Marko advised from behind said island as he slid one bag toward me before beginning to fish inside the other. "How do you like my pad?"

"The place suits you."

He snorted out a laugh. "This place isn't quite as cool as our old home _but_ it's easier to secure and gives each of us our privacy." Marko stuffed a fry between his lips and spoke around it. "Plus the beach is just steps away from the back door."

I perched on one of the stools while Marko remained standing as he ate. My fingers pushed his soda cup across the island's cool top.

"Muchas gracias," he stated with a grin.

Without saying anything, I started to eat. My stomach was still filled with tension so I was just grazing.

Marko ate with gusto as he watched me. Only when his burger was gone did he speak. "You're awful quiet. Still feeling sick?"

"I'm tired," I admitted. "Plus I really need a shower."

He skirted around the island and gently ran his knuckles along my cheek. "Let's get you settled in."

I followed him down a short hallway to a small bedroom across from two closed doors and a laundry room. The bedroom was Spartan compared to the rest of the house. Gray dominated with the same floor and a plain double bed with simple linens and a red quilt folded on a nearby chair. The view from the windows was the front yard but I couldn't see much in the dark.

Marko opened the first door in the hall and revealed a clean, spacious bathroom in white. There were plenty of towels but no shower. To my surprise Marko had a large clawfoot tub.

I pointed at it and smiled. "I didn't figure you the type to prefer a bath."

He chuckled. "I'm full of surprises. I'll bring your bag to the guest room."

"That isn't your bedroom?"

"Nope," Marko reached over and patted the second door – stainless steel and looked to be reinforced no less. "This place had a wine cellar and I turned it into my bedroom. I'd show you but you're sick and I haven't cleaned down there for a while."

My brow shot upward. "You sleep in a cellar?"

"Like a baby," Marko affirmed with a kiss to my forehead before pulling away. "I'll leave you to it."

He closed the door behind him leaving me in his bathroom.

I sucked in a deep breath and pulled the hospital robe off before peeling away the nightgown. Letting both drop to the floor, I made my way to the tub. I turned on the tap and sat on the edge while staring at my reflection in the mirror.

The bruises were increasing all over me… except one.

Marko's little love bite was completely gone.

My fingers trailed over where it had been as I considered such a curiosity.

* * *

One hour later I emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel and scooted straight across the hall into the guest room. I shut the door feeling vaguely weird about it before lowering the blinds. After all Marko had seen every part of me so why act bashful now?

Sorting through the bag Marko thoughtfully left on the bed, I pulled a t-shirt over my head before slipping into a pair of shorts.

I suppose my sudden shyness had something to do with the overwhelming exhaustion creeping over me. It wasn't even 11pm and I was practically a zombie.

Part of me worried he might have expectations we hadn't sat down and discussed.

I brushed my damp hair back over my shoulders before opening the bedroom door. Music was floating like an audible yellow brick road leading to the living room. I followed slowly and smiled at the sight that greeted me.

The TV was on and turned to an all music channel. _Layla_ by Eric Clapton was playing from the speakers skillfully hidden around the room.

Marko was in his recliner, one ankle resting on the other knee, as he rolled his eyes while scrolling on his smartphone. "Hey Grace," he greeted without looking up. "I want to do nothing but stay and I can't. David and I have a big custom job we're trying to finish." Marko glared at the screen for another second before depositing the phone in the front pocket of his jacket. "If those lousy pricks in San Francisco ever ship me the paint I ordered."

I winced at the low, very angry growl that escaped his throat. "Uh-oh."

"You have no idea," he retorted before standing. "The long and short is I gotta get my ass back to work."

"No worries," I answered softly.

Marko approached me with a grin. "You smell good." He pressed his face into the soft part of my neck between my throat and shoulder. "Did the bath help?"

"A little... I feel like I got run over by semi-trailer," I admitted.

He pressed a relatively chaste kiss just beneath my ear before pulling back. "I'll bet," Marko scratched his chin. "Get some rest. You have the run of the house aside from my digs downstairs. There's food so help yourself. Maybe go lay on the beach tomorrow or something. We'll get together for dinner tomorrow night."

I smiled and nodded which seemed to please him immensely.

Marko retreated to the door before shooting a teasing salute and stepping outside.

Within minutes the jeep fired up and Marko was gone.

I watched him back up and head down the driveway until his taillights faded.

Hugging myself and feeling awkward at being alone in his place, I turned at smiled at the dog. "Hey Jolly, I guess it's just me and you."

The dog gave a half-hearted wag of the tail and stared at me with doleful dark eyes.

Bored and jittery, I retreated to the bedroom soon after Marko left. After shutting off the TV and lights I said goodnight to the decidedly _not_ jolly Jolly.

Sleep claimed me soon after I lay my head on the pillow.

* * *

The next morning I woke feeling wasted as hell.

All night I dreamt of my mother – she was drifting outside the window in a bank of fog while running her nails along the panes of glass. Her voice was deeper as she called to me, her tone demanding in a way I'd never experienced.

Another bath and two glasses of orange juice later I felt nearly human again. The thought of solid food disgusted me so I snagged another glass of OJ and stepped out on the back porch. Jolly was laying in the sun all stretched out with his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

"Jolly," I smiled when he opened one eye and glanced up at me. "Want to play fetch?"

The dog gave an impatient huff and returned his head to the deck.

"Fine," I pronounced before taking another deep draft of the juice.

The houses during the day expressed as much whimsy in the paint jobs as the architecture. Marko's place was silvery-gray with amethyst purple trim. The other cottages were very much like his aside from a few deviations: a trellis over the back door here, a sweeping front porch there, and a few with more windows.

All the color palettes differed – scarlet with white trim, sea blue with evergreen trim, sunflower yellow with rust trim, and cotton candy pink with deep magenta trim.

It was a little gaudy but in a way the entire place fit the group perfectly.

I tired of standing around on the deck and started across the lawn for the beach. A sturdy set of stairs led to clean yellow sand free of not only debris but other people. "This is perfect!" I declared to a solitary sea gull. "No sharing with the tourists!"

A squawk as the gull flew out over Monterey Bay was the only reply.

Tomorrow I was going back home. Work always grounded me and now I needed it more than ever. The bruises seemed to burn me as I stared at the growing purplish marks crawling up my arm like a tattooed sleeve.

Still tired and yearning for a little rest, I set my glass in the sand and laid back.

Within minutes I was fast asleep.

* * *

"Grace, are you okay?"

I grunted and half-rolled to the side. "Leave me alone… five more minutes."

My subconscious caught on that Maria was speaking to me but all I could think of was my mother waking me up for school. Bizarre how the mind works sometimes, right?

"No can do," Dwayne stated in his dark baritone. "Time for you to rise and shine, girl."

A strong hand shook me by the shoulder even as Maria's voice replied to him as though from far away.

"Should we get Marko?"

He snorted humorlessly. "And leave her alone in the dark with the wacko running loose?"

Maria sighed. "Can't we call him?"

There was a brief pause before Dwayne continued. "Nah, I think she'd be better off waking up. She's probably been snoozing all day."

Another strong shake and I was awake and blinking owlishly. "What the hell is going on?"

Dwayne was squatting in front of me, shirtless, with seriousness dominating his dark gaze. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

I tried to focus my eyes on his hand as he nearly jammed said fingers up my nose. "Two."

He reached out and grabbed me by the arm. In seconds he was rising and dragging me along for the ride. "Good, you can still count at least. Marko told us you got discharged from the hospital yesterday for head trauma."

"Yeah," I steadied myself and Dwayne released me. "Where is Marko?"

He jerked his chin toward the staircase. "Marko's just waking up. Better get on back before he decides to come looking for you. He'll be worried."

I nodded and turned to Maria. "It's nice to see you again stranger."

She smiled and I decided the moonlight suited her. Maria looked a decade younger in the silvery light. "I hope we can have a chat later – and Star too!"

"That would be great," I enthused before letting out a groan. "I feel like I'm on fire."

Dwayne flashed a half-smirk of amusement in my direction. "Sleeping all day under the California sun has some disadvantages, kiddo. Best ask Laddie if he has aloe gel at his place."

Maria slapped her beau on the shoulder and his smirk blossomed into a full-fledged shit eating grin. "Don't be mean!"

I started up the steps and the couple wandered away holding hands; their quiet murmurs buried under the sound of breaking waves.

A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled Dwayne's comment to Maria about a wacko on the loose.

 _Just who the hell is the wacko?_

* * *

Marko was standing on the back deck smoking as I passed over the soft, thick grass carpeting the yard. The house was dark as pitch and Jolly was nowhere to be seen. Marko's features were lit by the reddish glow of the cigarette's cherry.

"Did you have a decent day?" Marko's voice was low as he addressed me.

I shrugged. "I fell asleep on the beach so I guess it was okay… aside from the atrocious sunburn."

He released a snicker before inhaling more nicotine. "You have shit luck, Grace." Marko's eyes landed on my face and he winced as though able to see my sunburn perfectly in the dark. "Ouch! I think Laddie has some aloe. He bunks with Star."

"Pink house?" I asked with the barest trace of a smile.

A chuckle escaped him. "You got it. David owns the red house, Dwayne the blue, Paul the yellow, and Star has the pink."

I stood close to him; aching to wrap my arms around Marko. "So you own some pretty serious art."

Marko half-turned toward me before nodding toward the door. "You noticed, huh? I'm not a snob about it. I like what I like."

"The Warhol surprised me. I didn't think you'd enjoy the whole kitsch vibe."

He waggled his eyebrows at me before putting out his cigarette and pulling me into the circle of his arms. "I like to be amused. Now," Marko breathed the word soft as a caress against my ear. "What's really on your mind? I don't think a couple of paintings are it."

Relaxing, I buried my face in his neck. "I overheard Dwayne and Maria talking. Who is the wacko on the loose?"

Marko went stiff before recovering. "No one you need to worry about. I promise you." He rubbed my back with great gentleness. "Hungry?"

His reticence was a clear message to back off on the wacko subject. Pushing people wasn't my thing.

"Sure," I agreed. "I could eat."

Marko's entire being lightened just a little. "Let's grab some grub. I'm starving myself."

He led me inside and I smiled at him while feeling a sense of growing unease.

 _Who was it that had Marko so worried – and Dwayne?_

* * *

 _ **Thanks for the review love - Erzsebeth Bathory, Chantal, LostInSantaCarla3, FlowerChild23, doodlebugrox, xXx Tinkies xXx, Liz, and Lyanna L! And thanks to those reading and adding the story as a favorite.**_

 _ **I highly recommend Power Play by Erzsebeth Bathory and LostInSantaCarla3 for those looking for an excellent Lost Boys story featuring Dwayne and Paul along with great OCs! If you haven't checked it out please do, it is so worth the read!**_


	11. Chapter 11

_A gentle reminder this is an AU story._

* * *

Marko proved understanding about my wanting to go back to work. After a quick meal he brought me back to my trailer. A peck on the cheek, advice to keep my door locked, and he left me and my bag on the front porch.

I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The interior, while undisturbed, felt completely alien.

Wiping a hand over my face, I set my bag on the sofa. "There's no place like home."

A gentle knock sounded on the door.

I frowned and crossed the room.

There illuminated by the porch light stood Dr. Aronsky. For the first time I noticed he was bald by choice; the shadow of a recent shave was glaringly obvious. A pair of sad, tired dark eyes met mine through the glass and held.

Opening the door, I managed a smile. "Hey," I made sure to block entrance inside with my body. "Thanks for helping me out the way you did."

Aronsky nodded; his expression grim. "Can I have a word with you?"

Fear crawled in my gut. "Um… sure."

He gave me a dead stare. "Inside may be better."

A nervous laugh escaped me and I stepped aside allowing him to enter. "Sorry! I'm feeling a little under the weather still."

Dr. Aronsky stepped inside and stood awkwardly in the center of my living room. He was dressed in jeans and a camouflage Henley. There was an expression of such seriousness on his face it made me want to rip the front door open again and flee into the dark.

"That sunburn must hurt like a bitch," he remarked.

Luckily I wore a long sleeve cotton shirt and jeans to the beach. My face and hands suffered the brunt of the sun's wrath. Some aloe gel from Laddie had taken the bite out of the pain but it still hurt. "Well it sure doesn't feel good."

Aronsky nodded. "At least I know you're still untouched."

Confusion overtook me. "Pardon me?"

He drew in a deep breath through his nose looking for all the world like an old soldier. "Are you familiar with the term _Nosferatu_?"

I blinked. "Uh – vampires, right?"

"That is correct." Aronsky gestured to my sofa. "You may want to have a seat, Miss Martin."

Folding my arms over chest, I stood my ground. "No thanks, I prefer to stand. I don't know why the subject of vampires keeps coming up…"

"Vampires are real," he stated with such bluntness I took a step back. "Santa Carla is crawling with the undead. I thought it was bad as a kid – I can't believe the cesspool it is now. Werewolves, ghouls, witches, warlocks, and even demonic activity are every day phenomenon. You are in danger of losing your very soul."

A frown crept over my face as worry cascaded over me like a rainstorm. "Horseshit," I pronounced with venom. "Look, I don't take kindly to having my leg pulled. Life is short…"

"Not for you, not if Marko is involved."

I froze. "You know Marko?"

A solemn nod and he continued. "I've been acquainted with your boyfriend since 1987."

Cold crept up my spine sending shivers across my skin. There was something in the man's dark eyes that spelled out he was speaking his truth. "That's not possible – Marko is twenty-two."

Aronsky smirked. "You're sadly mistaken, Miss Martin. He's probably old enough to be your grandfather."

"How the hell do you know all this?"

"My name isn't Ned Aronsky," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm Alan Frog. I grew up here in Santa Carla. In 1987 my brother Edgar and I sniffed out a pack of vampires. We tried to snuff them in '94 and it didn't work."

I stared. "You're completely nuts."

Alan/Aronsky released a harsh, short bark of laughter. "I only wish I was. The last thirty years of my life have been dedicated to staking vampires. My brother Edgar died in a cave out at the point…"

Goose pimples broke out across my skin. "Please leave."

"Marko and his buddies are responsible for murdering Edgar," he pronounced with absolute certainty. "God knows how many hundreds – if not thousands – of people over the decades have disappeared in order to feed their unholy appetites."

I stomped to the door and threw it open. "Get out. Now. Please don't make me call the cops."

Alan/Aronsky passed me in silence. He hesitated on the stairs with his back to me. "Marko and his buddies are feeling you out. They'll play some mind games with you to see if your worthy of being made one of them. In the end if you don't start drinking garlic smoothies it's going to be your funeral."

I slammed the door in his wake and quickly bolted the locks.

"What the hell is up with all the crazy people in this world?"

* * *

The next day Laddie and I worked side by side at the shop. He manned the register and waited on customers while I sat at the wheel creating. The sun made me feel strangely sleepy as though I needed to crawl into a corner for a nap.

As day drew down into night, I only became more tired.

Stretching as Laddie closed up, I wandered the shop floor marveling at the high volume of sales. A yawn escaped me and the teen noticed. He turned from the register with a grin. "Someone is tuckered out."

I laughed. "Yeah, I think I stayed up past my bedtime the last couple of nights."

He smiled while filling the night drop bag. "Marko keeping you up?"

The hint of mischief in his voice drew a laugh from me. "That's private, kiddo." A merry spark danced in Laddie's eyes. "How long have you known Star and the others?"

He froze; his smile slipped. "We've known each other a while."

The evasiveness in his answer set me on edge. After dealing with Alan - or Aronsky or whoever the hell my neighbor really was - any bullshit pissed me off. I leaned against the counter and stared him in the eye.

"How long exactly?"

The sun had gone down.

Laddie cast a grateful look at the darkness beyond the window.

I jumped as the bell over the shop door chimed.

David, dressed all in black, stepped inside with his cool blue eyes searching the room until they landed on Laddie. "How you doin'?"

Laddie smirked. "Every night is a great night to be alive. Is Dwayne home?"

"Yeah, he's working from home," David confirmed. "Some jackass stockbroker tried to screw us over on a trade. Dwayne is taking care of it."

Excitement lit up Laddie's face. "He promised to play _Medal of Honor_ with me." He gave me a quick wave and grabbed the night drop bag. "See you tomorrow evening Grace!"

I smiled and returned the wave as Laddie ducked out the door beside David.

Silence reigned between me and my visitor.

"How are you feeling, Grace?" David asked lazily.

I forced my body to remain still despite my urge to fidget under his knowing gaze. "Fine," I retorted.

He raised one eyebrow imperiously. "Marko had to drive to San Francisco to pick up a special paint order. He asked me to let you know."

"Thanks," I replied as my palms began to sweat.

David smirked. "You're welcome." The door slammed in his wake startling me.

Running my hands through my hair, I released a pent-up breath. "Oh crap. I am not listening to crazy Alan's theories! Vampires my ass!"

* * *

The next week passed in relative peace.

Marko and David were still busting ass on that customer order so Marko only called me. In fact, I didn't see Star, Paul, or Maria and Dwayne even once during this time. Laddie I saw every afternoon since he was working for me.

The teen was polite and scrupulously private. Laddie talked about general topics like the weather and local news but avoided any subject which might give me inroads to asking personal questions.

I got the hint by that next Friday – mind my business.

Since fatigue now constantly stalked me, I ended up at the trailer on a perfectly good Friday night. I should have been out enjoying life but the mere thought of going anywhere only made me more exhausted.

The bruising now spread like tendrils of an octopus across my abdomen.

I lowered my shirt and stared at my face in the mirror. "You're dying."

The words spoken aloud for the first time shocked me.

Running my hands through my hair, I decided to ignore the evidence. I needed to have a relaxing night in.

Two hours later I had a large bowl of homemade spaghetti on my lap as I sat cross-legged on the floor. Music filtered from the radio – I turned the dial to KTSC93 needing to hear some decent music for a change.

The DJ was playing a barrage of 70's tunes.

I imagined my mother and father would have loved this!

Pulling out my phone, I dialed someone I hadn't spoken to in quite a while.

' _Hello?'_

A smile tugged at my lips. "Hey Dad! How are you?"

My father chuckled. _'Lost a marlin today in the Gulf! My buddies bought me a round of beers so it all balances out.'_ He hesitated. _'How are you? Tourist season must be drying up with October around the corner and all.'_

I swallowed the mouthful of meatball I'd been chewing and licked the marina sauce from my lips. "Actually the shop is picking up steam! I'm shocked to be honest. We have a lot of customers from the newly minted Silicon Valley nouveau riche."

' _Good! I remember the days when Santa Carla rolled up the financial rug once Labor Day weekend passed by. Are you making enough to live on? I can send you a few dollars to help out…'_

A laugh escaped me. "Nah! I'm doing fine! The first couple of months I had to pay my rent and bills from my savings. Now I'm making enough to pay for my house rent from the shop. How is Liz?"

My father had met a woman his age in Florida. She made him happy and I was thrilled.

' _Liz is great. We're giving some thought to moving in together.'_

Surprise and pleasure coursed through me. "I think you should do it!"

Dad gave a hearty laugh. _'Thanks for the support, sweetheart. When do you think you might come out for a visit?'_

The golden question had arrived.

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. "I'd like to get out there for Easter." We needed to have _the talk_ about my condition and I wasn't looking forward to it.

' _Sounds good,'_ Dad released a sigh. _'Keep safe, Grace. I've been reading some damn terrible things in the Santa Carla Bulletin.'_

The internet was both a blessing and a curse.

"I'm being careful, I promise."

We said our goodbyes and I hung up. No sooner than I shoved my phone on the sofa did a familiar voice pour out of the radio.

"It's time for some damn fine Rock 'n Roll music ladies and germs," Paul enthused; his tone playful and smooth. "I'm gonna start out with a special request from my best bud Marko for his lady Grace."

Even though I was alone, I blushed beet red to the roots of my hair.

"Here it is," he murmured as familiar music started. "Enjoy everybody."

The music rolled softly over the airwaves creating a daydream-like feeling.

 _Nights Are Forever Without You_ by England Dan and John Ford Coley filled the empty space around me and for just a moment I felt Marko's presence as though he were right next to me.

The song was almost done when a knock sounded on the door.

My heart leapt with hope and I set aside my abandoned dinner before racing to the door. "Hey!" I greeted with a broad smile as I threw the door open.

The small porch was empty.

A frown slowly etched across my mouth as I stepped into the darkness. My crazy neighbor – Alan or whatever – was gone as were the rest of those on my cul-du-sac. No one was around. No one.

The sense of stillness and absolute solitude sent a shiver down my spine.

I stepped back inside and closed the door; swiftly locking it. "I'm finally going around the bend."

Shaking my head, I decided it was time for bed.

* * *

Sleep eluded me at first before I finally drifted off into fitful rest filled with disturbing dreams of a living darkness writhing around me like a snake. I twisted beneath the sheets with fear pulsing in my veins.

"Grace?"

The voice calling my name was familiar and much desired.

My eyes fluttered open in confusion.

Marko was standing illuminated in a pool of moonlight beside my bed. He was wearing dark jeans and a scarlet shirt with the sleeves pushed up to expose his strong forearms. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets as he watched me.

The silvery moonbeams gave him an unearthly, pale appearance.

I went into a sitting position. "Marko, how did you get in?"

He nodded toward the window. "You didn't lock up." Marko's gaze was intense as he took a step closer. "Come to me," he held out his hand. "I want you."

My pulse quickened as my hand moved of its own accord. His skin was cool as my fingers skated over his palm. Marko's hand closed over mine and he pulled me easily to my feet. I felt a burning attraction moving me toward him which set my blood to coursing madly through my veins.

His hands feathered up my arms and I shuddered in response.

"Let me taste you, baby," Marko whispered hotly against my ear.

I whimpered low in my throat, "Yes."

Marko kissed me; his lips demanded, conquered before he nipped my bottom lip playfully. His hands turned my body and he swept my hair back exposing the right side of my neck. He circled one arm around my waist and pulled me back against him.

He was hard against my rear and the sensation pulled a moan from the depths of my being.

Marko's mouth ghosted against my shoulder before kissing my nape. Again and again he pressed burning kisses against my neck before nibbling the skin. The feel was sensual, erotic even despite the fact our clothes were on.

I whispered his name as Marko bit my nape.

He groaned in response against my neck.

The pulling sensation started; a suckling sound echoed in the room.

Weakness started in my knees before creeping upward and loosening my muscles so my legs buckled.

Marko only tightened his arm around my waist and held me against him with ease.

As the pleasure in my body mounted, I cried out in ecstasy and the world disappeared in a shower of black sparks…

* * *

Light teased me back into consciousness. The blush of dawn colored the sky outside my open window.

Moaning softly, I struggled to sit.

My nightgown was still in place and my panties but I could smell Marko's scent on my skin. We may not have had sex but he had definitely been here. My interaction hadn't been some kind of wet dream but real.

I stumbled into the bathroom and switched on the light.

My reflection was wan with large dark circles beneath my eyes. I pushed the hair away from my neck to expose the tell-tale bruise Marko's kiss left behind. It was larger than the last and an angry deep purple color.

A sigh escaped me. "What is going on?"

The memory of my kooky neighbor's words came back uninvited, _'Nosferatu.'_

I laughed and shook my head. "You're just tired and need to spend more time with Marko. Don't lose it."

Yet some tiny part of me wondered why Marko and his family were so nocturnal. Why did they spend their waking hours at night instead of during the day like everyone else?

Determined to not go over the edge into madness, I set aside the bizarre thoughts and began getting ready to face the day.

 _I'm not going crazy. I. Am. Not._

* * *

 _ **I want to thank FlowerChild23, Erzsebeth Bathory, LostInSantaCarla3, AngelaAngieAng, Chantal, xXx Tinkies xXx, Lyanna L, and Liz for reviewing! Thanks as well to those following along.**_


	12. Chapter 12

The weekend was upon me once more.

Excitement surged through my veins at the mere thought of seeing Marko again. My little corner of the trailer neighborhood was peaceful. Best of all, the nutcase next door was out of town for the weekend. Part of me wondered if Aronsky/Alan was schizophrenic and off his meds or if he actually believed the crap he told me.

Maybe Aronsky was spending the weekend hunting supposed vampires…

A chill came over me as I waited for an Uber car on the front porch.

To be honest, I preferred thinking Aronsky was just nuts.

Thirty minutes later I was dropped off in front of Marko's front gate. My fingers pressed the buzzer and I waited with bag in hand.

The eagerness Marko had in his voice when he asked me to spend the weekend at his place still caused a shiver to run up my spine. My heart was hammering against my ribs when the gate slowly swung inward to reveal…

 _Star and her pitbull?_

I blinked. "Hey Star!"

She wore a mysterious little smirk that went well with her diaphanous cobalt blue sundress. "Sorry to be the cause of your disappointment," Star's nimble fingers worked her dog's neck earning a look of devotion from the pooch. "The guys had business out of town tonight."

Confusion sent my eyebrows surging toward my hairline. "Oh."

"Maria and I will keep you busy." Star motioned for me to step onto the property before she manually shut the gate. "Marko and the others will be back tomorrow night."

I fell into step beside her. "Where are they?"

She gave a gentle shrug. "David told me they are meeting with their lawyers to try and deal with Detective Hernandez. I imagine life is going to become unpleasant very soon for him if he doesn't leave the department."

"Why?"

Star led me to her cottage which was situated across the driveway from Marko's place and smack next to Paul's abode. "Oh," she looked sheepish even in the moonlight. "I'm sorry. I thought perhaps Marko told you what happened between Paul and Detective Hernandez the other night."

A sense of foreboding was creeping over me. "Umm… no."

She sighed and pressed her back flush to her door as her dark eyes settled on my face. "I'm not actually surprised Marko decided to keep quiet. Hernandez showed up at the radio station and accused Paul of murdering Tiffany Jackson in front of the entire night crew."

I was shocked. "Oh no."

"It was bad," Star agreed before shaking her head and stepping away from the door.

Maria threw the door open and grinned at me. "Hey girlie! How would you like some tequila and lime?"

I laughed as Star waved me through the door. "That's a little too strong for my blood but thank you."

Star left Violet on the porch before easing inside. "I made some sangria earlier if you'd like a glass."

"Grace," Maria eased her arm along my shoulders. "I personally vouch that Star makes the best sangria I've ever had."

"That's pretty high praise," I admitted. "Wine has never been my thing…"

An uncomfortable expression crossed Star's pretty face leaving her with a wary, almost tired look. "You don't have to try it, Grace. I have bottled water and beer if you prefer."

Maria looked disappointed as she grabbed my bag and set it on a nearby chair. "No worries! I was never someone who loved wine either."

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I felt a little sheepish. "Well, I did come back to Santa Carla to try new things so what the hell! Give me a glass of sangria."

Star and Maria shared a look – Maria elated and Star troubled.

"I'll just run and get it," Star stated before looking my way. "I think you'll really enjoy it."

After Star disappeared, I studied her the room as Maria hummed a little tune and built a fire in the fireplace. Unlike Marko's pad this cottage was very retro and very Boho chic. It suited Star well indeed. The furniture was comprised of Victorian and Edwardian pieces of dark wood and bright sky blue velvet upholstery. A tapestry-like rug graced the dark cherry floor and the art was Pre-Raphaelite prints like Dante Gabriel Rossetti's works.

The fireplace was in the same position in Star's living room as at Marko's place. The veneer was dark marble inlaid with pretty hand-painted tiles depicting different species of flowers and the same tiles made up the semi-circular hearth.

 _Beautiful._

Maria stood and gazed down at the flames. "Can I be super honest with you, girlfriend?"

"Sure," I stated before taking a seat on the settee. Unlike most antique furniture this piece was incredibly comfortable. "You look really serious."

She sighed and turned soulful dark eyes on me. "I don't mean to be rude but you aren't looking too good, Grace. How are you feeling?"

Maria wasn't stating anything but the plain truth. Still it was incredibly painful to realize my coming decline was so visible to others.

I shrugged. "Some days I'm on top of the world and others I feel like the pits."

"Is there anything I can do?" Maria moved away from the fireplace; her coral pink silk frilled blouse fluttered as she walked. She sat next to me and took my hand. "I have means at my disposal so just say the word and I can pull a lot of strings up at the hospital or whatever you need."

The declaration was touching. Tears sprang to my eyes.

"Thank you," I squeezed her hand softly before letting go. "I really appreciate it."

Maria wore a look of dismay. "Now don't cry on me, Grace. I'm not good with the heavy stuff."

I blinked away the tears and laughed. "I'm good, I promise!"

Star appeared in the doorway with a pitcher in one hand and balancing a tray with three clear margarita glasses in the other. Her large eyes were wide as she looked to each of us in turn. "Did I interrupt anything?"

"No," I shook my head and beckoned her inside. "Let's party and get drunk!"

Maria stood and shook her hips suggestively. "Girl, you know I'm down with that idea!"

A tinkling laugh escaped Star's throat and I was reminded of bells pealing.

* * *

The night was just beginning with dancing to _Timber_ by Pitbull and Ke$ha. The three of us were singing at the top of our lungs as we shimmied around the room. I felt like a teenage girl again at my first slumber party.

For a moment in time I was completely carefree.

Laughter erupted from Maria as I dropped into a nearby chair. I was winded but feeling more alive than I had in a long time.

Star grabbed the pitcher and raised one eyebrow. "Shall we?"

I shrugged. "Why not? I'm parched."

Maria grabbed the glasses and set them in a row. "You are in for a treat – best sangria _ever_." The way she fairly sang the last word drew a belly laugh from me.

The liquid was a deep, crystal-clear burgundy color with the teasing scent of lemon, orange, and pomegranate in the mix.

Star handed the first glass off to Maria. "Here you are," she gave me the next glass with a playful wink. "I hope you aren't a lightweight."

I laughed. "With wine I'm not sure."

She set down the pitcher and lifted her glass. "Ladies, bottoms up!"

Taking a breath, I took a long sip.

The flavor bursting across my tongue was as expected – fruity, slightly sweet, and with a trace of brandy.

I frowned after swallowing. "Is this a little salty or is it just me?"

Star's eyebrows arched but it was Maria that answered.

"That's the best part," she enthused. "Consider the hint of salt a little kicker for the taste buds."

Concern edged Star's features. "Do you hate it?"

I took another draft; this one deeper and swallowed more quickly. "No," I mused. "I guess the salt was just a surprise."

Relief flowed over Star and she visibly relaxed. "More?" She enquired and picked up the pitcher as I finished my glass.

Strange… I was thirstier than when I accepted the first glass. I raised my eyebrow as I held up my glass. "Hell to the yes!"

Maria was kicking back in a corner chair. She set her half-empty glass on the fireplace mantle and applauded. "You are a girl after my own heart, sister."

Star laughed and I joined in as she filled my glass.

* * *

Light was flaying my eyes as I rolled away from the open blinds in Marko's guest room. My retinas stung as though I exposed them to the sun during an eclipse. I literally felt as though a red hot poker had been applied to each orb. Sleep was calling me from far, far away but the pain made any attempt at slumber impossible.

My bladder ached and I stumbled out of bed to Marko's bathroom.

The moment the lights came on, I blinked owlishly.

I relieved the call of nature and went to the sink. A yawn escaped me as I washed my hands.

The moment my eyes touched my arms, I blinked in surprise. "Huh?"

I shut off the faucet and studied my skin with a practiced eye. Shock and concern flooded me.

All the dark purple bruises were gone… all of them.

My fingers traced my flesh as I stared at milk white skin devoid of any flaw. Unexplainable fear seized hold of me. With aching slowness I pulled up my t-shirt and stared at my abdomen in shock. Only yesterday morning it had been riddled with the same dark bruises as those decorating my arms.

"This isn't possible," I whispered.

Trembling took hold of me as I let my gaze rise to the mirror.

My mouth fell open.

The dark circles under my eyes had disappeared. In fact my eyes themselves took on a clearer appearance. I looked healthy.

Fear was pounding at the back of my head like a hammer.

As fast as my frayed nerves allowed, I brushed my teeth and washed up.

I needed to get dressed and find some answers.

* * *

Uber picked me up outside the compound gate and delivered me to the hospital.

Thankfully I had a pair of cheap sunglasses buried in the depths of my purse. I shudder to think how I would have coped in public with sunlight blinding me.

Six hours later I was confronted by Dr. Scarletti.

He shepherded me into his office and stared at his laptop a moment before sighing. "The results from the blood work you requested are back." The Doctor snapped his computer shut before turning perplexed eyes on me. "You are still showing signs of leukemia but not stage III."

"No?"

Dr. Scarletti shook his head. "No, Grace. The results from the lab show the earliest stages of the disease. I've never seen leukemia – or any cancer – regress so quickly without treatment."

I trembled. "How does something like this happen?"

He shrugged; his expression one of utter confusion. "It doesn't. I have no idea how the hell this happened."

Grabbing my purse, I stood. "Do you think this regression will continue?"

The Doctor released a sigh. "I have no idea. You could be in for spontaneous remission for all I know."

"Thanks," I mumbled before fleeing.

* * *

Sunset was on the horizon as I walked aimlessly.

My eyes finally stopped aching and a renewed sense of energy was rushing through my veins. I was no longer tired. Every part of me vibrated energy like I was a top someone wound up ready to release. The coming dark felt like a balm to my skin stinging from sun exposure.

No sooner did the sun sink beneath the horizon than my phone trilled.

I fished it out of my purse and pressed it against my ear. "Hello?"

"Where are you, Grace?" Marko's voice was filled with urgency and worry.

The neighborhood had bled from the more residential area surrounding the hospital to the downtown business section abutting the boardwalk. Neon lights seemed to swim and pulse with a life of their own.

I was unable to look away from the writhing display.

He released a deep breath. "Grace…"

Smells intoxicated me. Food cooking in the restaurants perfumed the air though a strange salty scent was beneath the others. At first I thought it was the ocean air.

It wasn't the ocean.

The saltiness was warm and had some deliciousness unique from the other smells.

I felt like I was ready to float on the breeze.

Without a second thought, I shut off my phone and went to stand in front of a hot pink butterfly motif sign flashing on and off in front of a tattoo parlor. The wings of the insect appeared real and I was utterly obsessed with the movement…

* * *

A pair of gentle hands turned me away from the neon lights. "Girl you are trouble with a capital T."

I was confronted by the frowning face of Paul. He towered over me wearing a look of concern; his brow creased. He tilted my chin up with his forefinger and stared me in the eye a moment before a huge grin broke across his face as brilliant as dawn.

"You look tons better, chickie," Paul enthused as he wrapped a strong arm around my shoulders. "Hungry?"

I stared mournfully at the undulating butterfly sign. "No." The petulance in my voice made me wince. "I've never seen anything like this before."

He snapped his gum and grinned broadly. "Babe you ain't seen nothin' yet. Let's get you some food before you faint." Paul led me down the street toward a small pizza joint. "Trust me when I tell you if you don't eat you'll regret it later."

The place was so small a few patio tables and chairs were spread on the sidewalk. Orders were taken and the food and drink served from the large counter/window overlooking the street. Within five minutes Paul had us seated with slices of cheese pizza and bottles of coke.

My stomach grumbled angrily as I bit into my slice of pizza.

The mild taste of the cheese along with the tang of the tomato sauce was magnified. I nearly drooled in taking my first bite. Once food hit my stomach I began to feel more grounded. "I've never taken LSD but I'm starting to believe someone slipped me some."

Chuckling, Paul absently beat out a melody on his thighs as he watched me eat. "Sleep deprivation and not eating will mess with your mind."

I took a long sip of soda and set down the bottle before pulling up my sleeve to expose the strangely flawless skin of my arm. "What do you make of this?"

Paul picked up his coke and gestured toward my arm with the bottle. "You need to tan."

My eyebrows arched. "Oh ha-ha!"

He laughed low and long before draining his soda.

Just as the food was finished David appeared beside our table. He was dressed simply in black jeans and a white t-shirt with a black leather jacket. The light from the street lamp hit the silver earring dangling from his ear nearly hypnotizing me.

"Paul," he greeted in a cool voice. "Can you take Star back home for me? I'll keep an eye on Grace."

The tall blond stood and gave a nod. "Will do, bro. I'll see you back at the ranch later."

David stared at me the entire time. "Why did you leave Marko's house?"

I felt very uncomfortable – like someone was wrapping me up in a wet blanket. Shifting in the chair my eyes rested on his motorcycle boots. "I went to the hospital."

"Look at me," David commanded in a voice that sent a shiver down my spine.

My eyes rose to meet his.

He studied me for a long, wordless moment before shaking his head. "You need to go home and get some rest, Grace. I'm giving you a ride. When you get there you'll go to bed and stay there."

Deep inside my temper uncoiled. "Sorry David but I'm a grown woman and you aren't going to order me to bed like a toddler."

A cold smile crept over his handsome face whipping away his youth leaving him with the appearance of one both ageless and yet ancient. The result was intimidating. "I can order you, Grace. Don't make me take a course of action we'll both regret."

Scared, I stood very slowly.

David nodded. "Good girl."

I trembled as I walked through the street beside David.

For the first time I was cognizant of people parting around him in a wide swath allowing us to walk unimpeded. He smirked and allowed his eyes to follow the occasional individual with interest before looking away.

When we arrived at his motorcycle, David pulled a pair of leather gloves from his jacket pocket. He tugged them on as he spoke. "Marko will pick you up tomorrow night. We're having a get together at the compound."

"What about the store?" I questioned.

He smirked again. "Laddie will take care of things. You shouldn't worry so much, Grace. Worry leads to a shortened life span."

Fear washed over me. "Is that a threat?"

David snorted and mounted his motorcycle. "Get on the bike, Grace."

Despite not wanting to do so, I followed his direction.

The ride back was silent and David never got off the motorcycle. He simply pointed at my trailer and nodded his head.

I backed away and his smile grew cooler; never reaching his eyes.

Once inside, I locked up all the while feeling as though the life was being sucked away from me. With every step toward the bedroom I grew more and more exhausted. By the time I reached the bed my knees buckled and I collapsed to the mattress.

As darkness swam over me, I heard David's voice echoing in my mind as though from a far distance.

' _Go to sleep Grace. Sleep until Marko comes for you…'_

* * *

Thank you: xXx Tinkies xXx, FlowerChild23, Erzsebeth Bathory, LostInSantaCarla3, Chantal, Liz, XxEmilyVolturi! I appreciate the reviews! And thank you to those reading silently and following the story.


	13. Chapter 13

Quick A/N: September I took as a vacation month to be with friends and family due to many fun events that fall in this particular month. Updates will return to normal intervals now.

* * *

The sensation of waking was not unlike feeling as though someone dashed a glass of icy water in my face. I sat up gasping; close to hyperventilating. Sweat beaded on my brow before forging a slow burning path down my face to sting my eyes and drip off my jaw.

I was still dressed in my clothes from the previous evening – even my shoes were still on.

A sharp rap sounded on my front door.

My pulse jumped sending my heart slamming against my breastbone. I dragged my body from the bed. Each step across the relatively small trailer felt like I was wading through concrete. By the time I reached the door I was exhausted.

Marko wasn't on the porch.

My neighbor was pacing back and forth like someone set his britches on fire. He was actually presentable in appearance: jeans, button down plaid shirt, and jean jacket. He had shaved and in combination with his hair growing back to buzz cut stage he looked good.

Aside from the massive blood-shot eyes he sported.

"Can I help you?" I asked wearily as I opened the door.

Alan turned and his dark eyes nearly bugged out. "You look like shit!"

Part of me wanted to slam the door in his face but I held off. "Gee thanks," I barely held my disgust in check though sarcasm bled through despite my efforts. "What can I do for you?"

Wariness transfixed his features into a semi-permanent scowl. "I completed the mission my client gave me and dusted a particularly important ghoul working for the vamps in town." The stoicism on his face was belied by a shade of fear in his eyes. "The sun is going to set in forty minutes so I need to get going. This is for you."

He pulled a rolled up, glossy thing from the depths of his jacket and extended it to me. _A comic book?_ "Be sure you read this," Alan intoned in so serious a voice a chill crept up my spine. "It just might save you from becoming one of the undead."

Laughter was successfully stifled but not the shit-eating grin. "Vampires?"

A solemn nod before he spoke, "Whether you believe me or not is immaterial. Marko is a vampire. Once you cross the line between the living and the dead there is no return. Read the comic and learn the signs. You just might save your immortal soul."

I unrolled the comic.

A massive vampire not unlike Dracula – sans cape but with blue skin – was baring his teeth at a terrified looking teenage couple. The words _**Destroy All Vampires**_ dripped like blood across the top. On the back cover a phone number was scrawled in chicken scratch handwriting.

"This is an out of state area code," I remarked as a way of not laughing in Alan's face. Sad a decent looking guy both well-spoken and intelligent was nutty as a fruitcake.

Alan nodded sharply once. "I don't live in that state; I just bought my cell phone there. Makes it harder for the blood suckers to track me."

I glanced up at him. "So you don't live in San Francisco and it's safe to say you aren't a doctor?"

A snort escaped him. "I don't reside anywhere close to California. Too many vamps in this state." He sobered. "I am a doctor though – internist. I live under a different name. Once in a while I take an extended vacation or sabbatical in order to deal with vampires."

"I assume your alter ego isn't Ned Aronsky."

Alan flashed a tired smile at me. "You got it. Read the comic and pray that you never need to call me."

With those ominous last words, Alan Frog turned on his heel and marched to his Lexus. He was inside and waving as me as he blew down the street. Within a minute Alan was completely gone and he wasn't ever coming back.

Part of me was glad to see the back of a deranged individual.

Yet a strange sense of how very alone I was in the park washed over me.

When I went back inside, I stuffed the comic under my pillow. With the bed made it was time to take a shower and look somewhat decent.

* * *

I picked a simple wardrobe: black jeans with a pale gray short sleeve, lightweight sweater. My hair was swiftly tied back into a ponytail. No sooner had I slipped on a pair of red leather ballerina flats than a playful knock sounded at the door.

Marko's curly hair left a distinct shadow in the glass as the street light illuminated him from behind.

I swiped pale pink gloss over my lips before grabbing my purse and heading for the door.

Marko was leaning his shoulder into the door frame. A mischievous grin lit his face. "You look damn good, girl. Are you ready for a ride?"

"Only if the driver is going to take me fast and hard," I teased. "Pounding the… pavement is a requirement."

His eyes glittered as Marko looked me over. He nibbled at his thumbnail as though trying to hide his ever-widening grin. "You're a woman after my own heart." Marko stood as I eased past him and shut the locked door behind me. "I love a hard ride. How about we meet the others down at the boardwalk?"

My eyebrows lifted and he chuckled before pinning me against the door.

The feel of him stiff and eager against my hip made me wet.

"I'm craving some cotton candy and a ride on the Big Dipper," Marko buried his face in my neck. "I want to make a few memories with you before we go home and make more."

The core of me throbbed with angry, obscene need as his soft lips skimmed my skin. To force out words was nearly painful. "Yeah," I whispered. "That sounds good."

Marko pressed a kiss against the swell of my breast before pulling away. He took my hand and squeezed it. "Come with me, Grace."

Logic dictated we talk about what happened to me the night before and how my disease was going into spontaneous remission. The throbbing between my legs and sheer need to touch Marko swept everything else away.

I followed him with all the eagerness of a love struck adolescent.

* * *

The night air was perfumed with salt from the ocean, the sweetness of cotton candy and funnel cakes. Screams of pleasure ripped through the air as we passed the rides blasting rock music so loud my ears were ringing. My mouth watered as a warm salty smell blossomed with every step I took into the surrounding crowd.

Marko's hand was cool as it encompassed mine but his flesh didn't feel as chilly as it once had.

I smiled at him as he turned and raised his eyebrows while tilting his head toward the Ferris wheel.

' _Why not?'_ I mouthed.

My reward was a wink as he took a sharp right and led me straight to the ride.

I let my eyes drift over him as he purchased tickets.

Tonight he wore clothing different from his normal night-to-night wardrobe: black leather pants clinging to the tight cheeks of his ass, matching leather motorcycle boots, and an equally tight shirt with colorful skulls in the Mexican _Day of the Dead_ style.

The light hit his silver skull earring giving it a glitter I was entranced by.

"Well, well," David's amused, cold voice startled me back into reality. "If it isn't the Big Bad Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood." The smirk on his face as he glanced at the scarlet leather ballet flats I sported made me itch to administer a stinging slap. A pair of arctic blue eyes inched up my body and stared into my own eyes. His smirk only amplified as though he _knew_ my thoughts. "How are you doing tonight Grace?"

"Great," I pronounced with forced friendliness. "And you?"

He arched one eyebrow; his eyes never leaving mine. "The family's all here. We're gonna hang for a while before we catch a bite." In a blink the intensity in his gaze dissipated and he glanced over my shoulder. "Marko," David greeted with genuine warmth. "The gang's on the beach if you two want to join in later."

Marko wore a mischievous grin as he slipped his arm around my shoulders. "Grace and I are taking a ride," he jerked his thumb at the Ferris wheel with his free hand. "We'll be over lickety split after."

David grabbed the cigarette he had tucked behind his ear and studied it with a grin. "Good deal." He raised strangely intense eyes to mine. "Grace," David leaned so close I caught a whiff of musk laced with tobacco and some deeper scent not only could I not identify but which set me at ease… not unlike catching the smell of your father's aftershave as a child. "Nice to see you again."

He lit the cigarette before shoving his lighter into his jacket.

I took a wobbly step after him feeling a strange compulsion to follow…

Marko stepped in front of me wearing a broad grin. "Whoa! I thought we were going on the Ferris wheel?"

My face burned as I shook my head to clear it. "Yeah," I allowed Marko to take my hand and lead me in the opposite direction. "I must be more tired than I thought."

He chuckled as we stepped into the line for the ride. "David has some powerful mojo, girl. You'll get used to it."

I stared at his amused face. "Please don't tell me you believe in that sort of thing."

Marko arched one eyebrow. "There are things in this world you have no clue about…" Humor and deathly sincerity mingled in his eyes. "But you'll find out soon enough, Grace."

"What do you mean?" My body felt a chill at Marko's words.

He laughed and shook his head. "Later girl – let's just enjoy the ride."

* * *

Marko's body anchored me as we rode the Ferris wheel. With each upward lift I felt as though I was about to float away into the night sky. The entire experience was surreal: a floating, weightless venture of which I was terrified and acutely fascinated.

My legs were like laces of _Twizzlers_ candy – and about as strong – as we emerged from the Ferris wheel.

Laughter escaped my throat as I clutched Marko's arm. "I could ride the Ferris wheel forever!"

The childish outburst drew another Cheshire cat grin from Marko as he wrapped a strong arm around my waist. I instinctively drew closer to him before slipping my arms around his neck. "Maybe we will one day," he joked before pressing a playful kiss on the soft skin just under my ear. "I always wanted my own amusement park."

Marko smelled just as good as he felt; like freshly cut grass laced with the musk a clean male body carries and traces of motor oil.

Without thinking I cupped his face and dipped my head down to his. Our mouths met and tangled as did our breath. Every sweep of his lips left me longing to find a dark corner without prying eyes. Marko's hands slipped down to cup my rear. He squeezed and kneaded leaving me breathless with mounting want…

' _Get a room!'_ Came an angry male shout. _'People got kids here!'_

We separated reluctantly and while my face burned with embarrassment, Marko's expression reflected dark wantonness.

He took my hands in his and kissed my knuckles. "Let's go to the beach."

I nodded and let him lead me.

Never once – until much later – did it occur to me there was something strange about the fact Marko walked backward the entire way. He collided with no one and his eyes never left mine.

* * *

The sand was cool on my feet as I pulled off my shoes. The change in sensation grounded me.

I carried my shoes in one hand while Marko held the other as we strolled.

"You look better," Marko commented as he glanced up at the star-spattered sky. "How do you feel?"

"The doctor said he thinks I'm in some type of spontaneous remission."

He peered at me but in the darkness I couldn't read the expression in his eyes. "That's great!"

I nodded and stopped to step in the tide. The sea water sent a chill straight up my spine drawing a chuckle from me at the sensation. "Yeah, I'm grateful." Finally I looked him the face. "I just wonder how long this will last."

Marko brushed his knuckles against my cheek. "It sounds like you are on the road to recovery. Just let yourself enjoy the journey. Don't muck it up by worrying."

The kiss he pressed against my lips was soft, gentle even.

"Come on," Marko urged as he stepped back. "Let's get going. I'm starved."

Laughing I agreed.

A bonfire came into sight just over the rise of the sand dune we climbed. The fire was massive and roared in the relative quiet this stretch of beach offered. Lights from the boardwalk twinkled in the far distance and the sound of the rides, Santa Carla traffic, and the ever present human din felt a world away.

Here there was only quiet murmuring, the lap of the waves, and the crackle of the flames.

Everyone was here: David, Dwayne, Paul, Star, Laddie, and Maria.

A cooler was propped open displaying bottles of beer on ice along with small mason jars brimming with ruddy liquid. Marshmallows roasted on sticks propped up over the blaze. Another scent above the sweet-smoky perfume of the fire lingered.

Bitter saltiness like copper pennies filled the air.

 _Blood?_

No sooner did the thought enter my mind than Star was smiling in my face. "I'm so glad to see you." Tonight she was as radiant as her namesake – a long glittering black silk skirt and matching bustier with some shimmering substance coating her skin and hair. Kohl lined her dark eyes lending her a more mysterious look than usual.

I embraced her and smiled. "I'm glad to see you too." I touched her hair and found it to be light as mist. "You look beautiful."

Star shot a bashful smile at me before taking my hand and pulling me toward the flames. "Want a marshmallow?"

"Sure," I laughed.

Marko wore a strange, bittersweet smile as he watched me being marched away. As soon as he turned toward David the smile died away entirely leaving him with the appearance of a man three times his age. He hitched his thumbs in the belt-loops of his pants and quickly made his way to his brother.

They bowed their heads together and spoke in near silent voices casting furtive looks my way.

A frown edged my mouth…

Star suddenly blocked my view and shoved a stick topped with a crispy roasted marshmallow in my direction. "You look hungry."

I smiled and accepted the stick. "I'm starved actually." The sweet, molten interior beneath the puffed, golden skin of the marshmallow drew a moan of appreciation from the depths of my throat. "Is my imagination or does everything taste better?"

She laughed and smoothed her long dark hair back over her shoulders. "Maybe it isn't your imagination."

My eyes rolled in pure unadulterated bliss as I finished the marshmallow. "I hope not!"

Paul was standing at the water's edge with Maria and Dwayne; the trio talking softly. Maria pressed her face into Dwayne's shoulder as her hand stroked the tight bare flesh of his abdomen. Dwayne wore no shirt beneath his black jean jacket. Maria was attired in a pair of denim cutoffs just covering the full cheeks of her bottom and a sunflower yellow tube top. The pair seemed perfectly suited for one another in looks and attitude.

Dressed in white jeans, a deep blue t-shirt with _Def Leppard_ blazing across the front, and a pair of gray Converse sneakers, Paul was handsome and looked every inch of the rocker. On this day his golden hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a few stray wisps curling around his face.

Star followed my gaze. "Paul is a handsome guy but he's a player."

"No girlfriend?" I asked quietly.

She shook her head. "No one serious. Paul follows the beat of his own drum. He loves the ladies… quite literally all of them."

I chewed my bottom lip for a moment. "He must be lonely."

"Nah," Star stated in a playful voice. "Paul is content. If he ever fell in love we would get a new sister. He's a great guy aside from the roving eye."

"What about David?"

Star appeared rattled by the question. "What do you mean?"

I shrugged and twirled the stick. "Does David have a girlfriend?"

She looked away and discomfort filtered over her pretty features. "I… no."

Following her line of vision, I saw David and Marko chatting amiably on the dune nearby. The pair might not look alike but they certainly had the brotherly vibe going on. There was intensity to both men most guys lacked.

I glanced back at Star to find her lips slightly parted and her eyes hazy as she stared directly at David. In that moment it was like a light went off in the depths of my pea brain. "Oh my god, Star. You're in love with David, aren't you?"

She went stiff before turning her head slowly in my direction. The look on her face was one of panicked determination. "You must never say that out loud again."

"Why?"

Star hesitated before speaking. "He doesn't know and its best he never does."

I gently touched her shoulder. "Are you sure? Maybe he has the same feelings." Part of me doubted David had the ability to feel love at all; there was something about him so icy in the emotional realm. Yet I clearly recalled his pleasure in Star's delight with the mustang he remodeled and the secretive looks he cast in her direction when she wasn't looking.

A startled laugh escaped her throat. "I don't think so. I'm the Wendy to his Peter Pan. He goes out and I know he screws other women." Star's large brown eyes grew misty before she recovered her composure. "Whatever I am to David I don't think love has anything to do with what he feels for me."

Before I could say another word Laddie appeared and wrapped his arm around Star's delicate shoulders. "How about a walk?"

She flashed a grateful smile toward the teen. "See you later, Grace."

No sooner did the pair walk off when I _felt_ Marko's arrival.

"Do you want to go home with me?" The words spilling from his throat spoke of raw need.

I simply nodded and held out my hand.

The moment Marko clasped his hand around mine, I was lost.

* * *

The warmth of the water surrounding us made me yawn. I was still sore and a little languid from what occurred earlier.

No sooner did we make it inside Marko's house did he send Jolly outside and pounce on me. Marko took the time to turn on the radio. _Nights in White Satin_ by the Moody Blues tumbled through the air around us. His mouth and hands worked me over until I was nothing more than quivering, orgasmic mush. Marko stripped me naked and took me on the kitchen island – his mouth playing erotic melodies over every part of my body.

Marko's build might be on the slight side, but he was stronger than a man twice his size.

We had sex standing; his arms wrapped around my body as Marko hammered me with such passion I could barely walk after. The interlude was raw and animalistic.

He carried me to the guest bedroom where we came together one last time – tenderly, slowly.

Marko knew his way around a woman's body and he enjoyed sex with gusto no man I'd known before ever had. He was spirited, passionate, and just a little on the kinky side. My skin sported little strawberry pink love bites across my ass, thighs, belly, and breasts courtesy of my lover.

Marko stroked my hair before pushing it aside in order to massage my shoulders. "Mmm…" he released a heavy breath against my ear. "I'm exhausted, Grace. How about you?"

I stretched and let my head loll on his shoulder. "I'm tired but I feel good."

The claw foot tub in Marko's cottage was huge. Both of us fit into it with no danger of the water sluicing over the sides. He was propped into a sitting position and I reclined against him. The feeling was both intimate and sensual.

He pressed his mouth against the curve of my jaw; I could feel his smile. "Glad to hear I satisfied my woman." Marko's hands were gentle as they skimmed along the tender skin of my arms. "Sunrise is coming soon. I need to get to bed." He let his thumb stroke my bottom lip in absent, gentle feathering motions. "You should think about getting some shut eye too."

I sat up and smiled over my shoulder at him. "Can I sleep with you downstairs?"

Marko stood; water running down his body in rivulets accentuating every muscle. He smiled and grabbed a towel. "I think you'll be ready in a few more days – a week at most." Swiftly Marko stepped out of the tub and dried off before wrapping the towel around his waist. "Until then enjoy the guest room and know I'm missing you in my bed."

I hummed happily in my throat as he leaned down and our mouths slanted against one another in a searing kiss.

Marko pulled back and administered another kiss to the tip of my nose before leaving the bathroom.

Once I heard the door leading to his bedroom shut, I leaned my chin against the porcelain tub. My mind was on fire as I pondered his words.

' _I think you'll be ready in a few more days – a week at most.'_

What did he mean?

* * *

Daylight was still in full swing when the growling of my belly woke me from a sound sleep. Hunger was clawing at my stomach until it cramped. I sat up with both hands pressed against my gut. Searing yellow rays beamed through the window blinding me for all intents and purposes.

My stomach cramped and I gagged as bile surged up my throat.

Puking was not on my list of priorities for the day.

I forced my jelly legs to stand. Every step in the direction of the kitchen caused my body to ache. By the end of the hall, I staggered and swayed as sleep fought with hunger over my body.

"Shit," I gasped as I emerged into the kitchen. "I feel like I'm eighty-five."

The refrigerator beckoned me and I went to it as though in a trance.

Cool air rushed over me as I opened the doors to the refrigerator.

One shelf held drinks of different stripes and another a little basket of strawberries which looked inviting. Still there was a strangely familiar smell beckoning me…

On the last shelf was a little bundle wrapped in clean white butcher paper. My hand shook as I reached out and scooped it up. The heaviness and give to the package was a clear give away: _hamburger._

Drool formed in my mouth as my hands starting shaking.

I could make a burger on the stove, Marko wouldn't mind.

A scream was torn from my throat as my guts contracted in sheer agony. I sank down with the package of meat cradled on my lap. Again and again the horrific contractions came until I felt like I was going to crap my pants and vomit at the same time.

Tears streamed from my eyes as I struggled to breathe.

' _Eat, Grace.'_ The voice was so soft, so very far away, and so achingly familiar.

David.

I opened the paper with trembling fingers. Bloody ground hamburger greeted my aching eyes. As though in a trance, I tore off a chunk of raw meat before stuffing it in my mouth. While my mouth chewed, my mind revolted against the action.

The taste wasn't disgusting but like eating sushi in a way. It was delicious.

Bite after bite disappeared into my gullet until the pound of meat was gone leaving bloody juices congregating in the paper wrapper.

Without thinking twice, I lifted the paper to my mouth and drank the juices.

Slowly, ever-so-slowly the contractions and heaves left me. Not only did my stomach settle I felt a thousand percent better.

Sitting with my head pressed against the cupboards, I stared at the empty paper with glassy eyes. "What the hell is this?"

A whisper came slithering along the floor like a snake. _'Grace…'_ David's voice was heavy as though he was sleep deprived. _'Go back to sleep.'_

My eyes started growing heavy. I blinked and tried to fight it.

David's voice came again, stronger this time. _'Sleep – now.'_

Yawning darkness opened its jaws and swallowed me whole right there on the kitchen floor.

* * *

Thanks for reviewing: xXx Tinkies xXx, FlowerChild23, Liz, J. Berry Smith, Erzsebeth Bathory, LostInSantaCarla3, Chantal, freshneverfrozen, XxLostInTheShadowsxX, Fairydoll, and Lexxxloubell! You all rock!

And thank you to the readers following silently and those clicking the favorite button!


	14. Chapter 14

Fear washed over me in a wave as the darkness receded. I blinked groggily against the late afternoon light. My shoulders throbbed from spending the day half-propped against hard cabinets. A groan escaped my throat as I sat up. Every bit of movement drew pain from me.

I grabbed the empty butcher paper and balled it up in one hand before tossing it in the trash.

My stomach heaved at the memory of consuming raw meat.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" I wondered aloud as I headed for the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, I was freshly showered and my mouth scrubbed minty clean with a liberal dose of toothpaste. I stared at my reflection in the mirror as I pulled back my hair in a ponytail. While I looked healthy enough, my reflection was strangely pale.

Night was rapidly approaching.

The lower the sun dipped – the more alive I felt.

Humming under my breath, I pulled on jeans and a pale pink t-shirt with a blooming rose on the front. The moment I was dressed I headed straight out the back door to the deck overlooking the ocean.

Salt air assaulted my senses.

Breathing deep, I allowed my eyes to rest on the beauty of the ocean glowing gold with the sun sinking over the horizon.

Jolly came bounding into view with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and his tail wagging madly. He sat in front of me with his tail thumping against the wood planks.

I laughed and scratched him behind the ears. "Well hello there!"

My phone began buzzing. I pulled it out of my back pocket. "Shit!" Sucking in a deep breath, I released it in a soft exhale before accepting the call. "Hello Jessica!"

Jessica Whiteside was my best friend; I hadn't spoken to her in a couple of weeks.

' _You're an asshole,'_ my conscience whispered.

"I'm here!" She cried out in shrill voice.

I yanked the phone away from my ear and stared at it hard. Slowly, I brought the phone up and pressed it against my ear. "Where exactly is here?"

Jessica was silent a moment before laughing. "Uh… Santa Carla. I'm at the Morgan House Bed and Breakfast on West Cliff Drive to be precise. Surprise!"

My mouth dropped and Jolly cocked his head before whining. I stroked his jaw absently. "You're kidding. That's awesome."

A nervous giggle tickled my ear. "Sorry I didn't give you notice but I wanted to see you."

"Wow! What a surprise," I fumbled the words awkwardly as I desperately grasped at the memory of her face. "Um… let me grab a cab and we can meet up at your Bed and Breakfast." Why couldn't I remember what Jessica looked like?

"I'll be waiting," she responded quietly before hanging up.

I stared at the phone in my hand before shoving it into my pocket.

* * *

The sun had sunk beneath the horizon leaving the sky shades of periwinkle, deep lavender, and onyx. A crescent moon was suspended in the darkest part of the sky with a liberal sprinkle of stars. Sheer beauty took my breath away.

Strong arms slid around my waist pulling me against a hard body. "Good evening, baby." Marko gently kissed the edge of my jaw. "How did you sleep?"

All thought of Jessica fled as I turned in his arms. "I slept like the dead – except for the moment I woke up and ate a pound of raw hamburger."

Marko's sleepy gaze suddenly sharpened even as a mild grin crept across his lips. "Say what?"

" _Raw. Hamburger."_ I arched a brow. "That's not normal."

He chuckled and pressed a kiss against the tip of my nose. "You worry too much. It's probably some weird part of the healing process. Who was on the phone?"

Deep inside some part of me was screaming to stay silent. The look on Marko's face was pure patience even as I felt a prodding sensation to come clean. "My best friend Jessica from Denver is in town to see me." Marko was silent and while his expression was completely serene; his body stiffened – just a little. "I vaguely recall promising her a vacation at my beach house before I left Denver. So," I concluded brightly. "Jess is collecting."

Marko nodded and looked over my shoulder toward the ocean. "Do you need a ride into town?"

"You aren't upset?"

He gave an amused snort as he caressed my waist with both hands. "Shit no. One of the things I like about you is the fact you give me space without bitching and moaning about it. I figure the least I can do is return the favor." Marko smirked. "Ride?"

"Yes please."

Marko grinned and led me back inside. "Good deal."

* * *

Instead of driving like a maniac, Marko drove in almost a leisurely fashion to Morgan House Bed and Breakfast. The B&B was a beautiful old Victorian three story beauty complete with gingerbread trim and stained glass windows.

Fairy lights decorated the wide, sweeping front veranda overlooking the Pacific.

Jessica was standing on the porch illuminated… she looked like a complete stranger. I barely recalled her face or wild _Orphan Annie_ hairdo or the curve of her throat.

I blinked. _'Throat? What the hell am I thinking?'_

Marko waited for me to get off the bike before he followed.

"What are you doing?"

He shoved his hands into his jean pockets. "I wanted to meet your friend." His eyebrows shot up. "Problem?"

"No," I stuttered.

A Cheshire cat grin spread slowly over his mouth. "You're a friggin' hoot sometimes, girl." Marko wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we walked toward Jessica. "David was right about you."

 _David._ The mere thought of him sent a tremor tripping through my core.

I glanced at Marko out of the corner of my eye. "What did he say?"

Marko's grin only intensified; his eyes cool yet filled with humor. "It's a secret," he breathed against my ear.

"I'll bet," I replied with sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

He responded by stifling a laugh with the knuckles of his free hand.

Jessica Whiteside was an attractive thirty-nine year old woman bearing a passing resemblance to Jessica Chastain. Cropped copper curls gave her a saucy appearance that turned a man's head. She possessed deep brown eyes the color of fine chocolate with a stunning intellect floating in those dark depths. While she normally favored clothes from Ann Taylor Loft, tonight she picked a pair of boot-cut indigo jeans topped off with a lacy, form-fitting shirt the color of Cabernet wine. Hammered silver hoop earrings sparkled at her ears in the pale light and I grinned at the tips of black velvet boots peeking from beneath the hem of her jeans.

She looked infinitely more suited to California than I did.

Marko was expressionless as we climbed the stairs and stopped in front of Jessica.

"You look so…" Jessica was staring at me with wide eyes as though seeing someone she didn't expect. "I guess different from the last time we saw each other."

The strong connection we always shared was in tatters. I felt as much and from the crestfallen expression on her face, Jessica did too. Despite standing three feet apart, I had the sensation of being a million miles away.

I forced a smile to my face. "Different as in good or different as in bad?"

She blushed crimson. "Good of course! I guess I expected you wouldn't have such a healthy appearance with the leukemia." Her eyes kept flashing to Marko. "I'm really glad to see you again."

"Me too," I lied. Guilt was drowning me and I needed a distraction so I seized on the nearest one available. "This is Marko Smith." He gave her a respectful nod. "Marko, this is Jessica Whiteside."

A pleasant smile bloomed on his mouth but it never materialized in his eyes. "It's nice to meet you, Jessica."

"Likewise," Jessica murmured as she looked from me to Marko and back again.

The sensation of being sized up was obvious to me and I was certain Marko felt it.

I kissed Marko quickly and stepped away. "I wanted to take Jess out for dinner. Can I call you later?"

"No problem," Marko murmured. "David and I need to get some work done at the shop." He retreated into the shadows leaving me alone with Jessica. The moment I heard his motorcycle start and peel away my heart sank like a stone tossed into the ocean waves.

Jessica reached out and took me by the chin; she was firm in turning my face back to hers. Concern mingled with discomfort left her features unsettled. "What's wrong with you?"

I shook her off and stepped back so she couldn't touch me. "Nothing is wrong, Jess. I feel better than I have in months. The doctor said my leukemia is in remission. Life is good."

"Your skin feels like you just came in from an afternoon of skiing," Jessica's voice filled with frustration. "I never hear from you anymore and when I come to town it's like you turned into a person I don't even know. And what is up with the weirdo?"

Anger percolated in my gut. "Marko is a good guy."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Grace – he was looking at me like I was a juicy steak."

The blood boiled in my veins. "Look, Marko has his own way of communicating. Trust me when I tell you he isn't about to hit on you, Jess."

Jessica's blush turned purple in hue. "That's not what I'm saying!"

"What are you trying to say?" I snapped.

She threw up her hands. "Your boyfriend had a very predatory look on his face. He made me feel like I was a burger just off the grill and he was ready to devour me. There was nothing sexual about it."

I held up a hand as I backed away down the steps. "Horseshit!" I cursed with such vehemence Jessica went still with shock. "Marko is wonderful. He's never been violent in my presence. Why don't you take your jealous ass back to Denver? I don't need you bringing me down."

The moment those words escaped my mouth in a hiss, Jessica gasped.

Turning on my heel, I made a dash for the road.

Jessica was in hot pursuit – I could hear the heels of her boots tapping against the asphalt of the B&B's parking lot.

I forced my limbs to pump and move like they never had before. Shooting across the street, I barely avoided being hit by two passing cars. The sound of horns blasting and Jessica screaming my name faded into the distance as I turned onto a nameless street.

The sound of my breathing thundered in my ears as I slowly came to a stop.

No one was behind me.

Relief pounded over me like a tidal wave crashing into a beach.

Wiping the sweat from my face, I turned and walked away as quickly as my throbbing legs allowed.

* * *

I wandered Santa Carla over the next few hours aimlessly.

People passed me and slowly I came to the startling realization I could _smell_ every person I passed. I'm not talking perfume and cologne… I mean skin. The scent was like nothing I've experienced before: warm, inviting, intimate. More disturbing was the fact my mouth watered and my stomach gurgled.

Covering my mouth and nose with one hand, I hurried through the crowd.

My feet lead me home.

I closed the door behind me and sagged against it.

Wiping my hands over my face, I released a sigh before heading to my bedroom. My purse was launched across the room with rage. I pulled the phone from my pocket and frowned.

Thirteen missed calls from Jessica. _Thirteen!_

I ignored them and dialed Marko's number.

He picked up on the second ring. "How's it going, babe?"

"Miserable," I sank down on the bed. "Jessica and I had a massive fight. I feel like I'm a twelve year old and not a grown ass woman."

"Are you okay?" Concern filled his voice.

"Fine," I retorted softly. "Thanks for asking. Can we meet up tomorrow night? I just want to relax and kick back tonight."

Marko's voice sounded strained. "Yeah, no problem. Give me a call tomorrow night. Get some rest, Grace."

"Thanks," I whispered before hanging up.

* * *

After a quick, delightfully hot shower, I shrugged into a soft, old t-shirt before climbing into bed. I reached over and clicked on the radio before relaxing against my pillow.

Melodic strains of U2's 'A Day Without Me' drifted from the speakers.

A crinkle sound from beneath the pillow caught my attention. I reached underneath and came out with the campy comic: _Vampires Everywhere!_

"Oh what the hell," I whispered before thumbing through the pages.

Comics had never been my thing. That being said, I flipped through at a lightning fast pace. All I learned was a bunch of garbage about head vampires being bad ass, vampires can be killed by stakes, too much holy water, and sunlight which I gathered watching vampire movies from the '50's and '60's.

Bored and tired, I shoved the comic under my bed.

The sun was rising – little tendrils of rosy-gold light caressed my window almost lovingly.

My eyes grew heavier and heavier until I closed them with reluctance.

* * *

The pounding on my door woke me long before I wanted and needed to wake.

Groggy and disoriented, I groaned in disbelief as I peered at the clock.

 _Four p.m._

I crawled out of bed with a particularly inventive metaphor before searching through my purse desperately. My fingers curled around the pair of cheap plastic sunglasses I stashed there. The pain in my eyes flitted away as I stumbled down the hall toward the front door.

The pounding continued unabated.

" _ **I'm coming!"**_ I screamed.

The racket ceased just as I made it to the door.

My fingers caressed my temple in clever little circles. I frowned and pulled open the door.

Detective Hernandez loomed over me. His suit was wrinkled and his eyes bloodshot. He hadn't shaved in days and smelled like he hadn't bathed in about as long. "We need to talk."

The reek of alcohol took me aback. "I thought police officers are prohibited from drinking on the job."

He gave a derisive snort. "I lost my job thanks to your boyfriend." His breath wafted over me stinking of unwashed teeth and rum. "Now we are going to talk about Tiffany Jackson and what Marko Smith knows."

My stomach clenched.

Tiffany Jackson was Marko's former flame. She had been murdered.

"I think you should leave."

The blow caught me off guard.

Sharp pain erupted in the side of my head. The sunglasses exploded into three pieces sent skittering across the floor. The sun blinded me instantly. I threw up my hands and limped toward the door.

Strong arms closed around me and yanked me inside.

A scream escaped my throat as Hernandez tossed me on the floor. Pain exploded in my right side as I bounced with the massive force of impact.

Hernandez kicked the door shut. He pulled a cell phone from his pocket. "You're going to call Mr. Smith and get his sorry ass over here."

Blood dripped from my mouth. Burning agony settled in the region of ribs. "I can't," I gasped.

He stared me down. "Why?"

"Marko works nights," I ground out. "But you know as much. He's asleep and Marko shuts his phone off when he's sleeping."

Hernandez seized me by the throat and squeezed – just a little. "Leave him a message."

I took the phone in shaking hands and dialed.

Marko's voicemail picked up. _'You reached Marko Smith. I'm busy so leave a message and I'll get back to you when I can. Later.'_

My pulse quickened. "Marko, it's me, Grace. Can you come over right away? I need to talk to you."

Hernandez snatched the phone and thumbed it off before shoving it in his pocket. "Good."

"I think you broke my ribs."

The man gave me a half-shrug and sat on the sofa. He crossed one leg over the other. "Once I deal with Mr. Smith I'll call an ambulance." Without further ado, Hernandez pulled a semi-automatic pistol from his jacket.

Blinking heavily, I sank back against the floor as unconsciousness crept over me.

* * *

Darkness had fallen. I blinked and swam back to reality.

I wasn't in the living room anymore. Hernandez had stuffed me into the bathroom.

Being locked in a windowless room wasn't the worst part. No, not by a long shot.

Finding myself staring down at the bathroom floor was the worst part of the entire affair. My back was rubbing against the ceiling. I felt weightless… almost as though I could float away on a breeze just like a damn balloon. I remember the same sensation on the Ferris wheel with Marko . However this was feeling was amplified a thousand fold.

Terror filled me and I screamed long and loud.

Heavy footsteps pounded down the hall. The door jerked open and the lights flicked on momentarily blinding me.

Hernandez filled the bathroom door; gun in hand. His eyes went comically wide as he drank in my form hovering against the ceiling. He crossed himself before pointing the gun at me. "What the hell are you?"

"Help me get down." I struggled in vain against the strong sense of being feather light.

He shook his head. "No way. I don't know what the fuck is going on here…"

I stared as a pair of hands emerged from the dark of the hallway behind Hernandez.

A male shriek echoed through the room as those seemingly disembodied hands seized Hernandez. The man was unceremoniously yanked left toward the living room. He disappeared from view and horrific screams rang out followed swiftly by a strange low-pitched growling sound.

Sick, wet ripping sounds issued from the other room before the heavy stench of blood filled my nose.

Everything went silent.

The only sound was my heavy panting and the thumping of my heart.

A human-size shadow appeared just outside of the door.

I whimpered and struggled against the invisible power keeping me pinned in place.

The figure stepped into the light.

 _David._

My mouth went dry as panic welled inside me. "What is this?"

He smirked and moved closer. Under the bright fluorescence of the lights blood spatter across his left cheek and in his carefully spiked platinum hair became unmistakable. "You seem to be in a pickle, Grace. All riled up and no place to go." He released a deep, disturbing laugh. "Need a hand?"

I stared at the blood-stained appendage. "Don't touch me."

David grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked. "You're being rather immature." He held me against him and let his eyes drift over me almost casually. Those arctic orbs narrowed as they took in my wince of pain. "Let's go."

I sagged against him and buried my face against his chest. There was something comforting about being held by him and surrounded by his scent. I felt like I was in the protective embrace of my father.

David strode into the living room.

A scream danced on the tip of my tongue, I swallowed it whole.

Bloody chunks of what used to be Detective Hernandez were strewn from one end of the room to the other. Spatter covered the walls, ceiling, and furniture. Bloody boot prints decorated the floor.

In ripped, blood-coated clothes Marko and Dwayne stood before us.

David laughed. "Well gentlemen, I suspect the jig is up." He looked down at me and I screamed. His eyes burned amber yellow and red. "We aren't hiding from you any longer, Grace."

Marko's face was demonic in his rage; his eyes shining the same colors as David's. "How bad is she hurt?"

"Nothing blood and rest won't cure," he assured. "I'm bringing her home. Take care of the mess and join us."

Unable to bear the horror a moment more, my bladder voided.

Marko's eyebrows shot up even as his face gentled and his eyes returned to their normal hue. "Whoa…"

Dwayne turned away and pressed the back of his hand against his mouth.

David glanced down at his now wet pants and the puddle in which he stood. "Lovely," he muttered before staring intently at me. "Time to sleep now, Grace."

"No," I begged.

He sighed. "Yes. You're injured and I don't have time to screw around."

The compulsion was on me and I obeyed.

* * *

Thanks to: LostInSantaCarla3, Guest, FlowerChild23, Ernesto, J. Berry Smith, Chantal, Erzsebeth Bathory, Guest, Liz, Beth, TishaLiz, xXx Tinkies xXx. I appreciate you all taking the time to review and let me know what you think.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: My deepest and most sincere apologies for not updating last month at all. I did receive a PM asking if I was abandoning the story and that is a firm no.

* * *

The pain from earlier was a dull throb in my ribs as I woke.

I was laid out on Star's fancy Victorian style sofa. To my shock David was seated across from me in a velvet upholstered wing chair with a cigarette in one hand; his other arm around the waist of a very familiar female.

Star was seated on David's lap with one arm circling his neck.

The pair stared deep into one another's eyes as though having a silent conversation I could never be privy to. There was shocking intensity on their faces and even more startling – tenderness in David's eyes.

I felt like I was witnessing something forbidden and turned my eyes to the ceiling.

"Well, well," David drawled. "My errant daughter awakes at last."

"Do you have to be that way?" Star whispered.

He outright laughed. "Hush," David responded in a soft voice. "Bring me the bottle – we're going to need it. Little Miss Tender Heart here is too sensitive to tap a live vein _yet_." The promise in the emphasis on that one word insinuated I wouldn't always feel that way.

The swish of Star's long skirts stopped beside me. "It's all going to be okay," Star stated in a solemn promise. "I promise, Grace."

Burning tears welled in my eyes. I covered my face with both hands.

Star left the room in a soft rustle of silk.

David exhaled and the smell of tobacco smoke surrounded me. "You might as well sit up. Star will be back with the bottle soon. The two of us need to have a friendly chat before Marko and Dwayne show up."

I hesitantly pushed into a sitting position. My hair fell in tangles around my face.

A slow grin spread across David's face but his eyes remained cool and predatory. "Ask what you want to ask, Grace."

My mouth trembled. "You're a… vampire." The word tasted alien and foul on my lips; like I bit into a cluster of bitter grapes.

David's pale eyes narrowed as he drew in another lungful of smoke. "Indeed," he exhaled the word with the cigarette smoke. "Vampires a reality in a world that declares them fiction – that is a shock to the system. I remember how I felt when I found out."

"How did you find out?" I asked timidly.

He smirked and gestured at me with his free hand. "Next question."

"Why me?" The sudden realization I was _tainted_ by something unholy was terrifying and disgusting. Sure, I wasn't exactly religious but vampires are evil. I mean they _kill_ people. "I don't understand."

David cocked his head as he smoked; studying me with all the zeal a scientist has for bacteria. "I like you. More importantly, Star and Marko both care about you."

Tears rolled down my face. "Not to be an ingrate…"

"Of course not," David broke in with a snort of disgust. "Let me lay it out for you, kiddo. You can't go back to normal. Once you drink the blood it doesn't work that way."

"I didn't drink any blood!" I protested.

Star appeared in the doorway with a shame-filled expression. A glass wine bottle was in her hands; covered with silver and encrusted with gems the piece looked hundreds of years old. "Yes, you did."

A memory surfaced. _Salty sangria._ My eyes went wide as I rose while pointing a shaky hand in her direction. "You and Maria did this to me."

David arched one eyebrow; his lips wore an amused, secretive smile. "Don't blame poor Star and Maria. They were just doing what yours truly asked."

I inched away until my back hit the wall. "You fucking asshole," I breathed. The pain radiating through me from my mid-section was the only thing that prevented my screaming obscenities at him.

Star blushed crimson and looked away from both David and me.

For the first time since I woke, David's mouth twisted into a genuine frown. He tossed the butt of his cigarette into the fireplace before rising. "Feisty, I like that. Disrespect I don't like. You and I are going to be spending literal infinity together so you might want to think about how our relationship goes. There is the easy way," he held up his hands to resemble a scale as he advanced. "There is also the hard way. From personal experience, I suggest you go the easy route. I'm not someone you want as an enemy."

David loomed only inches away. He let his eyes move over me before his gloved hand settled on my jaw; the touch both feather-light and firm. "You are my blood now, Grace. For all intents and purposes we are father and daughter."

There it was again – the soothing scent of him. Cigarette smoke, leather, and just a hint of fresh cut grass. There was also a deeper aroma of musk and his skin mingling with the other smells to create a cologne uniquely David.

Just the smell of him in my nose calmed my nerves and I hated myself for it.

He glanced down between us; his brow wrinkling. "Give me the bottle." Star handed it to him and he uncorked it. Blood and wine perfumed the air blocking out any other smell. "Hernandez broke your ribs. They are knitting together even as we speak but you need a good dose of blood and rest." David pressed the mouth of the bottle against my lips. "Drink up, Grace."

I started to turn my face away when Star caressed my hair; drawing my attention.

The sadness in her dark eyes was stunning. "Please Grace," she entreated. "Your ribs will heal anyway but without the blood it will take another day at least. Why suffer?"

David's eyes were piercing as he stared me down.

Instead of responding, I put my lips to the bottle and swallowed as David tipped the bottle back. The blood was watered down with red wine but it was most definitely blood. To my shock the taste is like sampling heaven: the flavor is salty and sweet with a fruity depth from the wine.

He pulled the bottle away and chuckled. "I think you're going to fit in just fine, Grace." David glanced at Star with seriousness. "Get her bunked down. Marko and Dwayne are almost here."

I didn't want to know how the hell David knew Marko and Dwayne's location without a phone call.

David headed for the front door while pulling another cigarette from his jacket. "I'm gonna wait outside and smoke."

The moment the door closed behind him, Star gently took my arm. "Come on," she whispered. "Don't be afraid."

* * *

Star led me to a small bedroom decorated like a lady's boudoir might be in Victorian times: flowered wallpaper with a theme of lavender and lace. She turned on a light before hugging herself tightly. "I know how you feel, Grace. I really do."

I stared at her for a moment. "Do you?"

She took on a sheepish expression at the venom in my voice. "Yes."

"Why would you be a part of this if you know from experience how it feels to be turned against your will?"

Star stared out the window into the darkness beyond the glass. "I'm selfish," she responded in so soft a voice I barely heard her. "You remind me of my life before… this. I don't remember much but I remember my aunt. She was kind and she was artistic and funny. You are very much like her. When you told me about the cancer I grieved for you. David suggested Maria and I give you the wine. The decision wasn't hard for me."

My face heated as anger raged in my heart. "How dare you!" I hissed. "None of you had a right to do this! Star, I'm going to turn into a murderer."

She appeared startled and grabbed me by the shoulders. "No! Grace you don't have to hurt anyone. David doesn't set a timeline on your first kill. I was a half-vampire for a very long time and Laddie has been one for thirty years."

"What about Maria?" I wondered aloud. "How long was she a half?"

Star had tears in her eyes. "She lasted only a few months. Maria loved the sun so much it was difficult for her to give it up. She and Dwayne have been a couple since 1986. He finally talked her into turning and Maria did it because... I won't say more. Maria should tell you why she made the decision."

I sank onto the bed as my exhaustion returned ten-fold. "I really need to lie down."

"Okay," Star backed out of the room and closed the door behind her.

My mind was numb with everything I learned. Unable to cope with my newfound knowledge, I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

A hand stroking my hair awakened me.

"How do you feel, baby?" Marko questioned.

The first thing that struck me was the fact his hand – normally cold to me – felt warm. The second was that he smelled better to me than any scent I'd ever caught before. He was cool ocean water mingled with musk distinctive only to him.

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. "Please don't touch me."

Marko's expression turned stony. He pulled back and simply watched me. Gone was the horrific monster I confronted in my trailer. The razor sharp planes of his face and burning eyes had returned to the normalcy I had known previously and adored.

Despite his handsome visage, I couldn't take back what I had seen.

He was a monster wearing a human face.

Marko let his hands rest in his lap and seemed to take satisfaction in simply watching me. "You're angry and I don't blame you."

"Yeah," I felt my lip tremble and turned away from Marko. "I am angry. We spoke about vampires and even though I thought it was bullshit I told you how I felt about eternal life at someone else's expense."

A deep sigh escaped his throat. "Would you rather die? Even vampires can die, Grace."

"I don't want to kill anyone."

The bed dipped and I felt Marko lying beside me. He made no attempt to touch me. "The truth – sick as it seems – is that one day no matter how disciplined you are the desire to rip into a human throat is going to overwhelm you. Trust me when I tell you the first kill is the worst."

I peeked over my shoulder at him. "What about the others?"

Marko turned on his side to face me rather than keep staring at the ceiling. "Honestly humans you choose for food are going to satiate your thirst. Morality for the most part isn't going to play a part. David has rules but there aren't many."

I turned towards him. "Do you feel anything for me or did you just seduce me because David said so?"

Disgust flashed in his eyes before disappearing. "I'm not some sappy schmuck, Grace. Vampires, we're a different breed and our feelings differ from those of a mortal being. Probably because we're at the top of the food chain or some shit like that." He reached out and when I didn't object; pulled me into the circle of his arms. "I care about you… I want you more than any woman I've ever known. Hell, I marked you to make sure every other vampire in Santa Carla knew how I felt."

 _The bite on my nape._

I reached out and brushed my fingers over his cheekbone. He relaxed under my touch. "So you love me or something?"

His lips tugged up into a half-smile. "Or something," Marko teased before growing serious. "I want you to be with me forever but I'm not gonna force you, Grace."

"I don't know how I feel," I admitted in a raw voice. "You lied to me – you all did. I need some time."

He gave a soft snort. "You'll have plenty of time." Marko kissed me on the tip of the nose. "The sun will rise soon. Do you want to sleep with me?"

I felt my eyes widen. "In the wine cellar?"

"Uh-huh," Marko chuckled. "I promise not to molest you; despite being tempted."

Softly, I pressed my lips to his and brushed stray curls away from his forehead. "Thank you but not today."

He nodded and slipped from the bed. "I'll see you tonight then."

I watched as he backed from the room. The door shut leaving me in darkness. Choking back tears, I began to plan my departure in the depths of my mind. There is no way I could stay in Santa Carla no matter if I love Marko or not.

 _Love_. I did love him.

That was the worst part of the entire shitty situation... aside from being infected and slowly turning into a vampire.

* * *

The sun was high before I dragged my body from the bed. To my surprise I felt great; my ribs didn't hurt at all. There was no time to spare if I wanted to make a clean get away before David and the others managed to wake up.

At least during the day they couldn't do anything to stop me.

There was a whole crap load of humble pie I needed to start chowing.

I snuck from Star's guest bedroom into the living room. She left her cell phone on a side table near the sofa. Quickly, I grabbed it and went out onto the porch. I dialed the one person who might be able to help me.

"Hello?" Jessica sounded stressed and annoyed as hell.

I swallowed thickly. "Jess, it's me, Grace."

The line went so silent I was scared she hung up on me.

Jessica let out a strange, choking sound. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," I whispered as I started down the stairs. "You were right about Marko. I can't talk about it right now but he's not the man I thought he was."

She sighed. "I'm livid pissed with you, Grace."

"I know."

"Where are you?"

"Let me give you directions."

Twenty minutes later Jessica was at the front gate of the compound in her rental car. I left the cell phone on the ground before hopping in the seat next to Jess. She looked tired with large dark circles under her eyes.

"You are a major asshole…" She began.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

Jessica pulled into traffic. "Don't interrupt me when I'm giving you hell," she stated wearily. "Where are we going?"

I considered the question. "My place and then as far away from this town as you can drive before it gets dark. Are you up for a road trip?"

She glanced at me speculatively. "Why not? I have another week off." With directions Jess found my trailer easily. It was noon by the time we pulled up to the place. Jessica raised one eyebrow. "Wow, you weren't kidding about being in a trailer although it looks pretty cool."

No part of me wanted to go inside. The memory of Hernandez screaming as ripping sounds echoed was swiftly followed by memories of blood and gore and monsters from hell.

"I just need to grab a bag real quick. I'll be right back."

Jessica nodded and shut the car off.

I wasted no time. The front door was locked so I headed to the back and sure enough my bedroom window was unlocked. Marko was right about me not staying safe. I shimmied inside and swiftly shoved two days worth of clothes into a backpack.

The comic book Alan gave me was still under the bed. I seized it triumphantly and stuck it into my pack.

I gingerly opened the bedroom door and stared out into the living room. The sunlight illuminated the space enough to see there wasn't any blood in sight. I closed the door and snuck back out the window.

There wasn't any time to screw around.

Exhaustion was pulling at me; demanding I give in and sleep once more.

I staggered to the car and got into the back seat. "You choose where we go but not back to Denver. We need to drive as far from Santa Carla as possible before the sun goes down."

Jessica started the car and backed out. Within a minute we were out of the park and on the road. "What the hell is going on?"

"Please," I was blinking heavily as I fought the compulsion to sleep. "Let me explain everything tonight when I wake up."

She shot a concerned look at me in the mirror before turning her eyes back on the road. "Okay. You're white as a sheet, Grace."

"I just need to sleep," I assured her before sinking down and resting my head on the backpack like a pillow.

My last conscious thought was centered around getting as far away from Marko and the others as possible.

* * *

Thank you for reviewing: Rivinia1, TishaLiz, , Erzsebeth Bathory, LostInSantaCarla3, Lykae'Sky, Chantal, FlowerChild23, xXx Tinkies xXx, Liz, J Berry Smith, and Yessssss.


	16. Chapter 16

Thank you for reviewing: LostInSantaCarla3, TishaLiz, Ernesto, AngelaAngieAng, xXx Tinkies xXx, Lykae'Sky, Liz, Erzsebeth Bathory, and FlowerChild23

* * *

 _Movies were good but I liked playing outside or reading more._

 _I walked over to a display of Disney VHS tapes near the door. My lips curled in disgust as Cinderella's smiling face came into view. "Ugh! She is a stupid princess just running around waiting for some prince to save her!"_

" _What's wrong with Cinderella wanting a prince to help her out?"_

 _The friendly, teasing quality of the male voice caught my attention._

 _I looked up out of the corner of my eye only to find a figure towering over me._

 _The young man looking down at me was older than a teenager but loads younger than my parents. He had curly, dirty blond hair short in the front but long in the back. A pair of sharp ocean-colored eyes watched me closely even as a sneaky grin lit up his face._

" _She's a wussy," I informed him with great seriousness. "A girl should be able to take care of herself."_

 _He arched one eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"_

 _Enthusiasm was rising inside me like an incoming tide. "Well duh! If I was Cinderella, I'd kick my ugly stepsisters in the shin."_

 _His eyes widened and he stifled a chuckle behind his gloved hand. He cleared his throat before speaking. "You're a scrappy kid," He hooked his thumbs in his belt. "Do you have a name?"_

 _I pointed my lollipop at him. "Mom said I can't give my name to strangers."_

 _He leaned forward and held out a hand. "I'm Marko."_

 _My eyes rested on his hand before returning to his face._

" _I'm not a stranger now," Marko pronounced; a sparkle in his eye._

 _There was logic in his argument._

 _Chewing my bottom lip, I glanced at my mother. She and Max were deep in conversation. I took Marko's hand. "My name is Grace." I shivered at the cold of his fingers; they felt like ice cubes._

 _Marko squeezed my hand before letting me go and straightening once more. "See Grace, I'm not such a bad guy."_

" _I like your jacket." And I did – it was covered with brightly hued, multiple patches. Some of the symbols and pictures I didn't understand, but I did see it as artwork. "It's like a painting I saw at a museum in San Francisco."_

 _Genuine pleasure spread over Marko's face._

 _Before he could reply, Max's voice thundered across the store shattering the moment. "Marko," Max was staring daggers at the younger man. "I told you not to come in here. I meant it."_

 _Marko's expression turned cold; his eyes narrowed. He curled his lip before slowly backing away. Reaching out, he yanked open the door and barreled through nearly knocking over several patrons on the threshold._

 _He stalked away and I watched until he disappeared around the corner._

 _A hand grabbed me by the shoulder whipping me around to face my very angry mother. "How many times have I told you not to talk to strangers?"_

 _My face burned with embarrassment as people stopped and looked at us._

 _Max reached out and touched her shoulder. "It's not Grace's fault, Janet. She's just a little girl."_

 _Mom relented. "Come on, honey. Your father is going to be waiting for us." She smiled at Max again. "Thank you again for your many kindnesses."_

 _He nodded and cleared his throat. "Well I must be getting back to the customers. Have a safe journey."_

 _A part of me was sad as I followed Mom to the car; lollipop engulfed in my fist._

 _The darkness around us seemed alive, writhing like a mass of snakes, thick like a miasmic fog of power I didn't understand as a child. I grasped my mother's hand more tightly as we transverse the parking lot on the way to the car. Pressing my body close to her, I shuddered at the icy cold radiating from her flesh._

" _Mommy?" I tilted my head to look up at her._

 _Mom turned her beautiful face down to mine. She was still beautiful but horrific at the same time – her facial features lean with unnaturally sharp cheekbones and a chiseled forehead that was alien to me. What terrified me most of all was my mother's eyes. Normally a soft, chocolate brown – those eyes were completely pitch black without any whites or iris at all._

 _She flashed a devious smile at me showcasing a wicked set of fangs. "Come give Mommy a kiss, Grace."_

 _I screamed…_

* * *

… I blinked and surged upward as my heart thundered in my chest. Exhaustion warred with pure, unadulterated fear and I gulped in copious amounts of air as I sought to calm myself. The dream was a real event I had no doubt as far as Marko was concerned. Marko may look twenty-two but I had no idea how old he really was.

It would explain why when I first saw Marko at the garage I felt like I met him before.

Why did I dream of my mother as a monster? Sure, she had been self-absorbed and more than a little conceited about her looks. Mom still was a good person despite having such faults.

"Are you okay?" Jessica asked from behind the wheel.

Twilight was on us with the sky painted hues of magenta and lavender. We were on a highway with numerous cars passing by at a shocking rate of speed. The air smelled different here than it did in Santa Carla: thick with car exhaust and other fumes speaking of pollution. Lights were coming up twinkling and dancing all around and I wanted nothing more than to indulge in the luxury of watching them.

"Fine," I choked out between deep breaths. "Where are we, Jess?"

She glanced at me briefly before returning her eyes to the road. "We're in Los Angeles. I need to stop for the night."

Five hours away from Santa Carla… I knew it wasn't nearly far enough.

I rubbed my hands against my jean-clad thighs. "How much gas do we have?"

"I filled up twenty minutes ago," Jessica retorted over soft strains of _Ventura Highway_ by America. "I'm just wiped out. Traffic in California is enough to make you shit your britches."

Truer words, I thought with a snide snort. "Can you find a place to pull over? I'll drive." I hadn't driven in years but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Jessica nodded. "We need to talk about what happened to you." She hesitated before continuing. "And no offense, but you really need a bath. Grace, you reek of pee."

My urine soaked jeans dried a long time ago; the material stiff and clinging to my skin in a fashion to make a person cringe. I did stink of piss – urinating on David when I first saw a vampire was not my finest moment.

Fear rolled over me as thick as winter mist over Monterey Bay.

"We'll talk, I promise. Find a place to pull over. We need to keep driving."

* * *

Nearly three hours later the lights of San Diego beckoned us.

Jessica was still asleep in the passenger seat when I found a Hilton Hotel. I woke her and she rented us a room. After a long, very hot shower I dressed in clean clothes and stuffed my soiled jeans and panties in the trash.

When I emerged from the steamy bathroom, Jessica was seated on the bed closest to the windows. She had her hands folded in her lap while staring out the window at the dark water of the Pacific. I sat next to her in silence.

She drew a deep breath. "What happened, Grace?"

I licked my lips and considered my choices. If I told Jessica the truth, I felt she would be in danger. On some level David would know – he didn't strike me as the type willing to tolerate an outsider with the secret he and his family protected.

Jess was also smart enough to sniff out a wild lie.

"Marko is involved with something… illegal." I wasn't technically lying because killing people is against the law.

She stared at me with wide eyes; satisfaction and horror swimming in the depths of her gaze. "I knew it! He looked devious to me." Jessica reached out and took my hand. "What did he do?"

My heart beat in a mad tattoo. "Marko killed someone. I'd rather not say more."

Jessica squeezed my hand with great gentleness. "I'm so sorry, Grace. I know you care about him."

Tears pricked my eyes and I blinked them away. "That's the understatement of the century." I stood and plucked at my sweater as I closed the distance between the bed and wide window. "We need to leave San Diego in the morning. Have you ever been to Mexico?"

She came to stand beside me. "You don't have your passport."

"But you do," I countered with fierce determination before turning to her. "I'm going to get on a bus headed to Texas in the morning. You drive across the border and take a nice vacation in Cabo San Lucas before flying back to Denver."

Shock filtered across her features. "What the hell is in Texas?"

"Nothing," I retorted. "That's the whole point – I have no connections in Texas so no one is going to look there for me. I'll call Dad and ask him to wire me a few bucks just to tide me over while I try to find work. I might even keep going… I hear Vermont is beautiful at Christmas."

Jessica's mouth worked like a guppy removed from a fish bowl. "You should go to the police."

I released a bitter laugh. "Oh yeah! Great idea! The last cop who investigated Marko and his family ended up dead. I think I'll stick with my own plan. Will you go to Mexico in the morning?"

She stared at me a moment before nodding. "I promise I will."

Relief washed over me and I hugged her tightly. "Thank you, Jess. You have no idea how much this means to me."

Jessica held me tight and stroked my back. "Damn! You're cold, Grace."

I blushed and pulled away. "I'm sorry." Grabbing the drapes, I yanked them shut. "Are you hungry?" A nervous laugh escaped me. "I'm famished."

"Let's go down to the restaurant," she urged. "We deserve to have one last meal together."

"Room service would be better…"

Jessica frowned. "Are you for real? There is a fancy restaurant right downstairs and you want a burger from room service?"

"I'm not exactly dressed to impress," I swept my hand downward. Jeans and a pale blue crewneck sweater was hardly an outfit to sport at an upscale restaurant.

She shrugged. "So what? We're just going to have a quiet meal together."

Fighting was the last thing I wanted. With a shrug, I conceded. "Okay."

* * *

Our meals were long consumed – Jessica indulged in lamb curry and I had the tuna tartar. Raw fish flesh didn't alleviate the gnawing hunger in my gut by much; just taking the edge off what I now knew to be blood lust. We were seated at a private table in a dark corner of a restaurant that appeared to cater to the local rich and famous crowd.

The other patrons were a lot younger than me and Jessica – and dressed in expensive, trendy designer clothes. One particularly loud table boasted a group looking like they were headed to a rave.

Jessica nibbled at her tiramisu and appeared troubled as she studied the people at the center table. "Wow… Marilyn Manson fans with righteous wallets and actual taste."

I snorted and took another sip of the caramel latte I ordered in lieu of dessert. "I was thinking something similar."

No sooner did the words escape my lips when the young man heading the small party looked up. He was about twenty-six with fashionably cut dark hair and olive skin with eyes as sharp as an eagle's. Dressed in red leather pants and a Gucci black dress shirt, he was reminiscent of a young prince. He was also breathtakingly handsome with an air of extreme conceit - the type that is gorgeous and knows it.

He smiled showcasing a mouth of broad, even white teeth that gleamed.

I looked away with growing uneasiness. "Are you ready to go upstairs? I'm tired."

Before Jessica could respond, the voice of our waitress interrupted. "Ladies," she greeted brightly. "I come bearing a gift." In her hands was a _very_ expensive bottle of French Bordeaux wine.

Jessica gasped. "Who sent this?"

The young woman gestured lightly with her head toward the Prince.

I managed to smile. "Please thank him but we can't accept it."

"It's far too extravagant a gesture," Jessica stated with firmness that left no room to argue.

Looking crestfallen, the waitress nodded before disappearing.

I stood abruptly and Jessica appeared startled. "We should go back up to our room."

"Okay," Jessica paid the tab and joined me.

We were almost to the door when a strange sensation crept over me. It is the feeling you get when someone is literally inches away staring at you. The hair rose on the back of my neck and a chill crawled up my spine.

Steeling my nerves, I turned.

The Prince was staring at me with a wine glass raised in a toast. His eyes were digging deep into my being as a slow smile spread over his sculpted lips. With great exaggeration he lifted his other hand and formed a V with his fingers.

A wicked grin curled his lips up before he made an obscene licking gesture inside the V.

I suppressed a gag.

My disgust seemed to delight him as he chuckled before taking a long drink of his wine; those clever, cold eyes of his never leaving mine.

Not waiting, I grabbed Jessica by the elbow and steered her out the door.

"What is wrong with you?" She asked in a quiet voice.

I kept my face forward and kept moving. "You don't want to know."

* * *

All night long I remained awake, so fearful of the Prince I pulled the desk chair across the room after Jessica fell asleep. I jammed it beneath the door knob and checked the locks over and over again. The closer daylight came – the more exhausted I felt.

Dawn broke casting a warm pinkish hue over the ocean.

Jessica was chattering nervously after her shower. She dressed swiftly revealing her desire to leave this place as much as I wanted to go. "I had a weird dream last night."

I just finished showering myself before slipping into the clothes I wore last night. They were clean enough and I could preserve my last change for when I arrived in Texas. Finished toweling my hair dry, I grabbed the scissors from Jessica's beauty kit.

"What did you dream about?" I asked casually.

She was standing in front of the window staring out at the ocean as I quickly sliced through my hair. "I dreamed about your mom. It was weird and jumbled and it was like seeing a ghost. The entire thing gave me the freaking creeps."

I stared at the severed hank of hair in my hand. "That is weird. I dreamt about Mom just before I woke up outside LA."

Jessica turned. "Maybe it's a sign she's watching over you…" Seeing my new hairdo, her mouth fell open. "What did you do, Grace?"

"I think it is way past time to stop sporting a teenage hairstyle," I remarked quietly. "I'm a grown woman. Plus this will be easier to take care of on the road." Instead of shoulder-length my hair was shorn off at the jaw.

She shook her head and crossed the room to grab the scissors out of my hand. "Sit down and let me even this out before we leave." Jessica worked efficiently and quickly. She might not be a hair stylist but after twenty minutes of her trimming I looked like I was sporting a playful bob instead of the dull, sharp cut I made.

Without speaking we gathered our things and left.

Jessica drove me to the bus station and smiled at me as I was getting out of the car. "Take care and call me when you hit Texas, Grace."

"I will," I assured her. "And you go directly to the border from here."

She saluted me. "Yes ma'am!" Growing serious, Jessica's smile disappeared. "I'm headed straight there."

I shut the car door and waved as she pulled away from the curb before blending into traffic.

The sun beating down on me made my eyes water and my skin sting. I walked into the bus terminal and purchased a ticket for the first available seat on a Texas bound trip. In two hours there was a bus headed to Austin and I was going to be on it.

* * *

Seated in a corner with my back to the wall with a good view of the terminal, I waited warily. Marko and the others sure as shit were not going to come walking in from the mid-morning sunlight. Still, I was on edge after seeing the disgusting Prince in the restaurant. There was power in him I now recognized – he was on par with David.

My suspicion was that the vulgar asshole was a vampire.

The sooner I was on that bus to Texas the better.

Time ticked by so slowly I felt like I'd been sitting in that crummy terminal a month. Every second stretched into eternity. Worse was the fact my mouth was watering at the scent of human skin as people walked by.

I swallowed the saliva pooling in my mouth.

A shadow fell over me and I peered up. There stood a uniform patrol cop with a frown staring down at me. He wore mirrored sunglasses and my mouth went dry with fear. I could barely see my reflection at all. I was near transparent and terror spread through me.

"Do you have any identification?" He asked in a bored voice.

I turned away so as not to be forced to look at my own fading reflection. "Why do you need it?"

He snapped his fingers in my face drawing my eyes back to those sunglasses and my reflection. "I ask the questions around here. Give me some ID and lose the lip – unless you want to spend the night in jail for vagrancy."

I pulled out my license and handed it to him.

"What are you doing in San Diego, Miss Martin?"

"I was visiting a friend."

The cop nodded and handed me the ID. "I take it you are headed back to Santa Carla?"

"No," I murmured. "Texas."

He casually reached to his belt and pulled loose a small silver canister. Before I could move he sprayed me full force in the face. At first it felt like water before suddenly I was stinging all over so bad I wanted to scream. My vision was blurred and he was nothing but a shadow bending toward me. "That is a dose of holy water. On half-vampires it stings and disorients but on a full-fledged vamp? Shit you'd be on fucking fire. Keep your mouth shut and do as you're told or I'll stake your ass right here."

The cop grabbed me beneath the armpits and began yanking me towards the entrance.

"What are you doing?" I hissed.

He snorted. "The head honcho wants a word with you, Miss Martin. If you have any belief in a deity, I'd start praying right about now."

I was shoved into the back of a patrol car before he got behind the wheel. I could barely make out his figure in the front seat out of my tearing, swollen eyes. The holy water felt like a dose of pepper spray.

"You're a cop," I tried to reason with him. "Police protect the public…"

"Yeah?" He asked in a vitriolic tone as the car pulled into traffic. "Well this cop is under paid and not appreciated by the public. So I'm working my way into the good graces of a vampire who will one day turn me for my loyalty. The day I turn is the day I'm out on the street snacking on every disrespectful asshole I ever came across."

Disgust poured over me and I shrank against the back seat to get as far away from the maniac as possible.

* * *

After what seemed like an hour the cop pulled into a huge warehouse. He got out and dragged from the car by my arms. Once out, he steered me across a wide concrete floor. I was weak and tired beyond any explanation. Unable to fight back, I simply allowed my body to turn into dead weight.

He grunted once before sliding open a door open.

Metal clinked and there was a whine before he shoved me inside.

I stumbled in the darkness and threw out my arms in an attempt to gain balance. The door whined again and slammed behind me. Despite my still swollen eyes, I discovered the dark was a balm to the aching, stinging flesh.

The room I was trapped in appeared to be a disused walk-in freezer; the walls, floor, and ceiling stainless steel.

I sank down to the floor; my back pressed to the wall.

No sooner did my ass touch the steel floor than a familiar, angry voice echoed in my mind.

' _Where are you, Grace?'_ David's mental voice was hoarse and filled with icy rage.

I drew my knees up against my chest and rested my chin on them. Day was not a vampire's normal time and he sounded sleep deprived. If the vampire from last night was going to kill me, maybe it was best for me and everyone else concerned not to fight it.

David's voice echoed in my mind as thunder during a lightning storm. _'You belong to me – I_ _ **made**_ _you. I'm the only one allowed to destroy you. Tell me where you are right now."_ Along with his voice came strange pressure as though David was present all around.

Quiet was my response.

A deep sigh gusted. _'Stop being so stubborn. Marko is going insane and Star is sick with worry.'_ His voice turned gentle, cajoling. _'Tell me where you are, Grace. We're coming for you anyway. Just tell me and I'll be there after the sun sets.'_

I covered my face with both hands. "I don't know where I am," I whispered aloud. "All I saw was a warehouse."

' _Good enough,'_ David responded. _'Get some sleep. We'll be there soon.'_

I was afraid beyond words – I had a feeling any reunion with David, Marko, and the others was not going to be pleasant. That was even _if_ David found me before the Prince arrived.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thank to those following and making the story a favorite. And huge a huge thanks to those who reviewed: Shrugs, Rivinia1, xXx Tinkies xXx, galwidanatitud, I Can't Even, Guest, LostInSantaCarla3, and FlowerChild23! This is an early holiday surprise for my readers. I hope you enjoy it! The next update will be New Years weekend.

* * *

I woke with the setting sun. How I knew the sun had gone down while trapped in a windowless room, I wasn't sure. The sensation of becoming more alive rippled over me and I was filled with energy. I stood and began pacing the room. The swelling of my eyes had gone down significantly; the flesh of my eyelids was puffy and tender to the touch.

Part of me marveled – while the other part was stricken - at just how well I could see.

In the pitch black of the enclosed room I was able to make out every nook and cranny as if I was bathed in the noon day sun and not dark.

' _David?'_ I felt foolish even trying to contact him. Fear drove me to do it.

At first there was no reply, just a deafening silence rife with a sense of disapproval. Just as I was about to give up and sit down he responded with a dry, caustic, _'You rang?'_

I didn't know how to answer.

David heaved another sigh. _'Hang tight, Grace. We're on our way.'_

' _I don't think you should come.'_ There… I managed to get the words out.

Shock exploded in my gut as another voice echoed in my mind. _**Marko.**_ _'Don't be stupid. We're gonna have a serious talk after we find you.'_

An icy laugh rippled through my brain. _'What he said,'_ David added.

Then there was absolutely nothing. I felt more alone in that moment than I had ever been in my entire life. Dwelling on my fears wasn't in the cards. The door creaked and whined before opening to reveal several figures.

The light coming from behind them cast the group in shadow.

One particularly tall male caught my attention. He took a step forward and laughed. "Well if it isn't the pretty little half-vamp from last night." The young man's voice was rich, deep, and reminded me of silky dark chocolate. "You rebuffed my gift. I have to confess my feelings are hurt."

Sheer horror crept up along my spine; every hair on my body stood on end.

"I am flattered you described me as a prince," he continued with a cool, amused laugh. "Even if you thought me vulgar it was endearing."

"You are vulgar," a sensual female voice retorted with a hint of sass.

He released a chuckle. "Now, Lily, be a good girl. I'd hate to put you across my knee – even though you'd get off on it. My love would throw one of her infamous jealous tantrums and we can't have that."

The shadowy female made a pouting noise.

He stepped inside the room and suddenly the lights came up.

I winced before my eyes adjusted.

It was the Prince from the restaurant. Tonight he was wearing designer black jeans tucked into black leather boots and a maroon silk dress shirt unbuttoned to his breast-bone. A few gold chains were visible around his neck and a simple gold band studded with sapphire chips encircled his left thumb. His dark hair was slicked back and a black Hugo Boss jacket rounded out his ensemble.

The man was beautiful and terrifying to behold.

"I understand your name is Grace," he ambled forward slowly as though he had all the time in the world. "My name is DJ X."

I blinked. "What?"

DJ X held out a very well-manicured and yet masculine hand. "It's nice to meet you, Grace. I've heard so much about you. Fate is a funny thing – I can't believe you showed up to the same restaurant I decided to visit on a whim."

Part of me wanted desperately to howl with laughter while the rest of my brain puzzled over his words. _Who was talking about me to him?_ This guy called himself _DJ X_? I suppressed the thought and buried it deep in hopes he didn't catch how unimpressed I was. I stared at his hand making no move to take it.

"I promise I won't bite," he stated in a sly voice.

Fear motivated me to look up.

DJ X was studying me closely with a growing frown.

I took his hand and shook it swiftly before pulling back.

He tilted his head with a cunning smile on his face. "You're afraid. I can't say as I blame you. My subordinate wasn't very delicate with you, was he?" DJ X reached out and caught my chin; turning my head as he took a good look at my eyes. Suddenly he released me. "I must confess…"

A sharp whistle cut through the air and stopped DJ X in his tracks.

"Step away from the girl," David's voice was a thunderous rumble; an ominous warning of disaster to come. "She belongs to me."

DJ X smiled revealing a mouth filled with white teeth and long fangs. He released a deep laugh that sounded as if it would be at home in the bowels of hell. "Can it be young Davey from the carnival freak town up north? I thought I smelled your foul stench on the girl."

The other vampires with DJ X parted just enough for David to walk past.

Dwayne, Marko, Paul, Star, and Maria followed. Not one of them looked in my direction but instead kept their eyes on the other vampires and David.

David had morphed into a hideous creature of angled, frightening features, and gleaming, hellish eyes. "Grace is my blood and I want her back." He held out his hand to me. "Come to me."

I took a step only to be blocked by DJ X.

He smirked at David. "My dear boy, I think you need to show a little respect to your elders. No one comes ambling into my territory making demands." A look serious as death twisted DJ X's features unpleasantly. _"No one."_ The deep, animalistic non-human tone to the vampire's voice was terrifying.

David cocked his head. "I could say the same of you and yours."

A frown corrupted DJ X's almost angelic mouth. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Marko glanced at me briefly – pain, worry, and hostility raging in his eyes – before turning his gaze on a nearby blonde female vampire so scantily dressed she could make Playboy.

"Your wife visited Santa Carla recently and caused me a few headaches," David responded in a serene voice. "I'll bet she asked you to collect Grace for her, right?"

The vampire beside me sank his fingers into my arm and yanked me against his side. He smelled of leather and expensive cologne with an undertone of blood. "Bullshit," DJ X hissed. "She would have told me if she traveled to Santa Carla. We have no secrets."

In the blink of an eye David's features appeared human once more – his expression utterly composed. "I don't make a habit of lying to my elders. Respect and a good reputation are paramount to those destined to live forever. What the hell else do we really have?"

DJ X glared at one hulking, ripped vampire with a bald head. "Kirk, get the car. We're going home. I want to have a word with my wife." The vampire nodded and left quickly to obey his master's orders. "Of course the rest of you will come along for the ride."

David gave a nod in return. "Of course."

Suddenly DJ X dropped his arm around my shoulders before nuzzling his nose into my temple. "You really care about this woman, David. Is she your girl? I see she's marked but the smell and the feel is off…"

"I don't care to screw my fledglings," David retorted coldly.

The vampire clasping me laughed low in his throat before his clever dark eyes darted to Star and Maria. "To each their own as the old saying goes. Considering the lovelies in your entourage I think you start bedding all of them. Getting laid might improve your personality."

If the insult affected David, he didn't show it. Instead he laughed. "I get laid plenty, thanks for your concern."

A limo appeared behind the group.

DJ X sighed. "As charming as this little social interaction has been, I am late. Grace will ride with me." He began pulling me along. "The rest of you can find your way to the house." Lily, the blonde vampire, and the rest of his followers blocked my view of David and the others.

"No worries," David called out. "We'll be there soon."

DJ X shoved me into the car before climbing in. "I'm sure," he retorted in a booming voice before smiling at me. "Don't look so glum, baby. You're about to have the time of your life."

I slid as far from him as possible as his people took up the seats across from us.

He simply laughed as the car began to move.

* * *

The _house_ DJ X mentioned was instead a massive mansion set high in the hills over the city. The design was ultra-modern with glass windows and architectural angles I hadn't seen in a house up close before. Security was everywhere – no doubt vampires – with a high fence marking off the multi-acre property. The view was spectacular and showcased both the city and ocean.

Rave music was blasting and people clearly high and/or drunk wandered by half-naked.

He pulled me from the limo and led me inside.

Magnificent is the only word I could use to describe the place. I've never seen anything like it. David's compound and the cottages within seemed positively quaint compared to this place.

A curvaceous redhead in a black thong and nothing else drew near. She grinned and handed DJ X a tumbler filled with ice and thick crimson liquid. "Welcome home."

He grabbed the tumbler and toasted her before taking a swig.

 _Blood…_ The smell was so ripe in the air my gut twisted in agony and I grimaced.

"Do you want a little taste?" DJ X asked playfully passing the crystal tumbler beneath my nose. "You look positively starved, Grace."

I shook my head. "No."

He shrugged and grabbed me by the wrist with his free hand. "Suit yourself, woman." His eyes narrowed for a brief second before satisfaction radiated from his being. "Ah, she's in the pool."

I was pulled through massive rooms, each more opulent than the last, before we emerged on a stunning terrace boasting an infinity pool. There was at least half a dozen naked twenty-something's in the pool and lounging casually around it.

DJ X stopped and released me; gesturing to someone at the far end of the pool. "Daddy's home, sweetheart. Come and say hello."

A lithe feminine figured began moving much like a model on a catwalk. She had a beautiful body with elbow length caramel-colored hair. Swathed in a red bikini, little was left to the imagination. At first I was so embarrassed by how close to naked she was I tried to look away.

Until she spoke – once she did I was riveted.

"X my darling," she greeted in a breathless sigh.

I looked into her face and came perilously close to losing control of my bladder again. "Mom?"

* * *

Janet Martin – the same woman who walked out on me and my father when I was sixteen – stood before me alive and well. She hadn't aged a day. There was something different about her. She was just as stunning as she was all those years ago but cold.

She draped one arm around DJ X's strong shoulders and began fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. "Hey baby," she greeted me coquettishly. "I bet this is a surprise."

The air changed around us and DJ X's dark eyes narrowed like slivers of obsidian. "David," he tilted his head in greeting.

"X," David returned from close behind me.

The male vampire embracing my mother kissed her temple before drawing back. "David here tells me you traveled up to Santa Carla and gave him some trouble. Is that true?"

Mom gave him a sexy pout; my stomach roiled in response. "I told you I felt Grace in California. Darling, I just wanted to see her. She is my daughter," she glared daggers over my shoulder. "Grace is my _flesh_."

David's hands closed over my shoulders and I could feel him hovering just inches away from my back. "And Grace is my blood now. Perhaps you're ignorant of how things work in this world but blood ties trump human parental ties every time."

DJ X smacked my mother on the ass and laughed. "You are a little devil," he admonished before all traces of amusement slipped from his handsome face. "We'll talk about your faux pas later, Janet. For now I need to deal with the fallout. My apologies on the misunderstanding, Davey boy. How about we make a deal beneficial to us both?"

David was silent for a moment. "What kind of deal?"

The other vampire grinned broadly. "As a peace offering, I allow you and your little pack safe passage out of San Diego. In return you leave Grace with us." He rested his forehead against my mother's temple. "If she proves to be a good girl, I'll let her visit you just for shits and giggles."

"Interference with another sovereign head vampire's fledglings is a no-no."

DJ X frowned. "Seriously? You really need to get laid, Davey."

The argument was calm but tense with both parties pressing their claims.

I was numb with absolute shock.

My mother, the woman I thought dead, was standing not five feet away. She looked younger than me and radiated a personality I'd not known as a girl. I stood staring as though I was a statue carved from marble.

I wanted to feel something… anything.

The pure devastation of her sudden appearance – a damn vampire no less – was more than I could bear in that moment. "Why did you go?" The plaintive sound of my voice filled me with self-loathing.

Janet cocked her head and crossed the distance between us. "I wanted to be free. Most of my mortal life is a blur but I remember that much." She flashed a charming smile that fell short since it never reached her eyes. "And I remember you."

"I don't understand how you ended up like this," I gestured helplessly.

She sighed and reached out to brush strands of hair from my eyes. "I went to Max. We always had chemistry but he was insulted by my offer for a relationship between us. It seems he finds a woman who leaves her family distasteful." Hatred flashed in her eyes like lightning before disappearing. "He might not have been interested but Max had a houseguest."

 _DJ X._

Satisfaction curled her lips up into a callous grin. "X wasn't adverse to a woman fleeing an unhappy marriage. He made me the woman I am today and I adore him for it." She leaned close and pressed her chilly cheek against mine. "I'll be beautiful forever and ever and ever, Gracie. There are no worries with X."

David and DJ X were still wrangling like two lawyers in court – both ignoring me and Janet.

"X can do the same for you. Stay here and be with us. He can take you under his wing and we can be a happy family." She ended the husky murmur by running her tongue along my cheekbone suggestively.

I froze in horrified disgust.

David's voice was droning in the background as my stomach heaved; the world slowed as my heart beat once… twice…

Striking as a cobra does at a mouse, I dragged the nail of my forefinger across Janet's forehead horizontally before following with a vertical slash.

The sign of the cross wept crimson in the wake of my attack.

I prayed that whatever part of my mother still remained in this disgusting shell found peace.

Janet stumbled back, blinking. She gingerly touched her forehead before staring at the blood on her fingertips. Smoke rose from the wound as though she'd been branded and not merely scratched. Panic alighted on her features. "X!"

DJ X turned from David. His eyes went wide. "Janet?"

David's arms closed around my waist; yanking me back before shoving me toward Marko. Another more familiar set of arms encircled me like steel bands.

Janet gave a gut-wrenching scream of agony and despair before the back of her head exploded in a rain of gore that painted the pool deck scarlet. She collapsed into a heap at DJ X's feet and he swooped down with a cry of disbelief.

"What the fuck did you do?" Marko breathed in my ear.

David turned and glared at me before shaking his head once. He quickly aimed his attention at the other vampire.

DJ X gained his feet. When he angled his face toward us there was nothing beautiful about him. He possessed a mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth. A pair of blood-red nearly black eyes stared at us and it felt like staring into the eyes of a shark.

"Give her to me," he demanded in a demonic voice so deep it didn't sound real.

David shook his head. "No."

DJ X roared – the sound of a lion and bull rolled into one. "Do you know how old I am, puny child? I have seen the dawn of entire civilizations and watched them wane! You dare deny me?"

Before David could respond, another voice did.

"Janet caused her own demise, Xavier." The male voice was both stern and strangely gentle. "We both know she had disgusting morals. Becoming a vampire merely brought her perversions to the forefront." A tall male with broad shoulders and wearing a sedate navy blue suit was suddenly standing beside David. "I understand you had feelings for her but don't allow emotion to sway you into foolishness."

 _Max the video store owner?_ I remembered him from my childhood. My mother worked for him. He would save all the strawberry lollipops in the candy jar on his counter for me. He looked exactly the same… sans geeky glasses and clothes. Now he looked like a well-to-do businessman.

"Is everybody I've freaking met in life a vampire?" The words burst out of my mouth without thought.

Marko hugged me tighter. "Zip it, Grace."

"A wise idea, Marko," Max stated coldly. He turned back to DJ X. "Let David and his pack go, Xavier."

Naked hate crossed DJ X's face. "They killed Janet. This is war. A deed such as this cannot go unpunished."

Max sighed. "I will side with David – it is my duty as his sire. Where I lead the San Jose pack follows. The head vampires of San Francisco and Los Angeles will side with us as well. There are also independent vampires with no pack affiliations who will side with David. A war will not benefit you or your people, Xavier."

DJ X pointed at the gate leading away from the terrace. "Get out before I slay you where you stand."

"I am sorry for your loss," Max murmured before gesturing for David to leave.

A muscle jumped in David's cheek. He turned on his heel and marched toward the gate; the breeze stirring his moonlight-colored hair and black jacket.

Marko followed and began dragging me when I didn't walk fast enough. Footsteps echoed behind indicating Dwayne, Paul, Star, and Maria were behind us. We walked until we reached the gate which security opened.

The group streamed outside and stopped several feet down the road.

Max was at the rear; his hands in his pockets. The expression on his face indicated he was highly disturbed. He addressed David. "We have a real problem on our hands, David. I've known Xavier three hundred years and he is livid."

David was stoic. "He's going to come for a fight, isn't he?"

"I expect no less," Max replied. "Grace killed his wife. Even if she was just a trophy – which I doubt - his pride is wounded and he was correct in saying the attack on his territory needed to be avenged. I've always said young people need discipline, David. Now you see why. I hope you will deal with Grace as soon as you get back to Santa Carla."

"I will," David's voice was cold as a winter pond. "Thank you for coming."

The older vampire smiled brightly. "Anything for family, David. Let me know if you need further assistance." Max gave David's shoulder a friendly slap as he passed by. He continued past Dwayne and Paul before disappearing into the darkness beyond.

"How fucked are we, man?" Paul asked; his normal playfulness gone.

David appeared weary. "Pretty damn fucked thanks to the girl genius here." He bent at the waist and stared me in the eye. "I was going to let this episode go because all of us had a reaction to becoming what we are… except Maria since she volunteered. After the fiasco with X I need to instill loyalty and discipline in you, Grace. Let's get the hell out of here before King Dickhead inside changes his mind about letting us leave."

I looked around, confused. "You don't have transportation."

Dwayne cocked an eyebrow. "David didn't tell you shit, did he?"

"We'll be flying, girl," Paul stated in a subdued tone. "Do we have to stay at the fleabag hotel again on the way home?"

David shook his head and began to rise into the air…

My mouth fell open. "This isn't happening." I knew from my experience the night Hernandez was murdered I had the ability to float. Flying? That was something else entirely.

"Sure as fuck is," Paul assured me as he too began to float upward with Dwayne beside him.

Star was next followed by Maria.

Marko and I were the only two left on the ground. He raised one eyebrow and gestured upward. "Get a move on."

"I don't know how…"

Frowning, Marko seized me and threw me high into the air.

I screamed as a sudden wind came up and began whipping all around. My body was tossed in the draft as though it had all the weight of a feather. I was waving my arms frantically when Marko appeared in front of my face; the wind whipping him wildly.

His expression was utterly serene as he stayed level with me. "Come on," Marko took me by the arm; his grip strong but gentle. "We don't want to be stragglers."

Terrified, I closed my eyes tight and allowed Marko to steer us through the night sky.

My mind seized on one thought and one thought only – from this night forward my life was going to change irrevocably.

* * *

The characters of DJ X, Lily, Kirk, and the blonde female vampire are from The Lost Boys: The Thirst. This is an AU story so the events of The Thirst never happened.


	18. Chapter 18

_Thanks for all the reviews and support guys! Especial thanks to: LostInSantaCarla3, Rivinia1, J Berry Smith, Chantal, Erin, FirstCome-FirstStaked, Happy Holidays, Liz, Guest, and Erzsebeth Bathory._

 _Here is the next update! I hope each of you has a happy and blessed New Year!_

* * *

My eyes remained clenched as Marko steered us through the sky. My skin was chilled from the winds furiously whipping my body. After what seemed an eternity I felt us descending. Frightened, I wrapped both arms around him.

He gave me a quick squeeze. "Don't be scared, Grace. We're going to land."

I gave a cry as Marko hit the ground; landing as easily as a cat jumping from a chair to the floor. My face was buried in his neck as I drew in deep heaving breaths. He caressed my back for a moment. I began to calm even as my brain whirled.

"Break it up lovebirds." David's voice was cool.

Marko eased away from me. "Stand up straight. It'll be okay."

I straightened and opened my eyes.

We stood in a huge junkyard with heaps of crushed, rusting cars. Lights twinkled beyond the semi-darkness of the closed up lot. Exhaust and the sounds of sirens and relentless traffic in the distance told me exactly where we were. _Los Angeles._

David glanced up at the sky before looking at each of us in turn. "I don't want to take a chance in trying to make it back to Santa Carla. Dawn's gonna come awful quick. We make nice with Rojas and spend the night in one of his hidey-holes before taking off tomorrow night."

"Better than meeting the sun and being reduced to ash," Dwayne agreed sotto voce.

Paul looped one long arm across Star's shoulders before he pulled her close. "At least we won't be spending the night at the cockroach motel. How do you think Laddie is doin'?"

All expression dropped from David's face leaving him unspeakably cold. "Unlike some in our present company, Laddie is loyal to the end. I have no worries about the kid. He's crafty and he's a survivor."

David's words puzzled me but I didn't have time to think on his assertion for long.

Suddenly David was looming over me with a dead stare. "The head vampire of LA will be here shortly with his entourage. Do not speak. Stand next to Marko and try to be a good girl. I prefer you not kill anyone else. Got it?"

The angry rasp in his voice caused me to shiver in fear. "Yes."

"Great," he ground out before his icy gaze slid to Marko. "If she tries anything stupid – stop her."

Marko's jaw clenched. "Yeah."

Maria wrapped her arms around Dwayne before she buried her face in his chest. He returned her embrace before rubbing her back in circles meant to relax her. "Don't worry, baby."

Star swallowed thickly before taking a step forward. "Please David…"

"No," David turned his face away from her. "I'm not interested in the least. There are no excuses for what Grace did. We'll discuss this crap back in Santa Carla."

"David – "

"Star," he turned his head to look at her; his eyes were liquid fire. "I said we'll discuss this later."

She stared at him a moment longer before nodding and looking away from him.

A sound stopped all of us in our tracks… it was high-pitched and strange. David and the others became stoic while I searched the darkened sky desperately. The air turned thick and heavy before soft crunching sounds broke the relative quiet.

Several young men and one young woman emerged from the shadows cast by the stacked cars. All were Hispanic and dressed in relatively subdued clothes: jeans, checked shirts, motorcycle boots or designer sneakers, and jean jackets. Two had tattoos – one sported a teardrop tattooed beneath his left eye and a spider web covering his neck.

David suddenly grinned. "How's it hanging, Francisco?"

The guy with the tattooed face and neck raised one eyebrow as he stepped forward. "Hey homey, I still have my cojones intact so it's all good. I hear you and X got into it and he neutered you."

"Good news travels fast," David gave a casual half-shrug. "What can I say? I like living on the edge."

Francisco Rojas laughed and scratched at his chin before surveying each of us in turn. "Killing the wife of an elder ain't so smart, bro. That dude is almost six hundred years old."

David snorted. "I didn't kill anyone."

"I know," Francisco's unsettling bright green eyes stared at me a moment before he looked to David once more. "You're safe to spend the night. I can't let you stay longer – I don't want no issues with X. He's one bad mother fucker."

Amusement settled on David's features. "I heard you are a bad motherfucker. The rumors must be wrong."

Francisco Rojas let out a sharp bark of laughter and his friends joined in. He wiped at his eyes before replying with a grin, "Vete a la chingada, David." He grew more serious and held out his hand. "There's a safe house over in Laurel Canyon we keep for outta town friends. You and yours can use it."

A slow smile spread over David's face; his eyes lit up with genuine pleasure as he shook Francisco's hand. "Muchos gracias, Francisco. I really appreciate it."

"My pleasure," he held out his arm and the young woman sidled up into his embrace. "Lola here stashed bottled blood in the fridge. Use it if you need to. We've had a few issues with law enforcement up in that area so lay off the hunting."

Dwayne's face filled with concern. "What kind of issues you been having? Are cops sniffing around?"

"Cops," Francisco spat the word out like he sucked a lemon. "I wish it was the damn cops. Hell, I got a shitload of them in my pockets. Nah man, it's an FBI agent outta DC. Cucaracha has been asking questions about disappearances in the better part of town. If I eat half of Compton ain't no one gonna ask questions. My people dine on a few rich white folks and we got issues."

"Society's always been that way," Dwayne responded in a quiet voice. "The world is mierda de toro."

Snorting, Francisco nodded. "You speak some righteous truth, brother. Rafael is gonna lead you to the house. Me and mine gotta get someone to eat before light breaks."

Marko jerked his chin in Francisco's direction. "How was that last Porsche we sent you?"

The Head Vampire of Los Angeles grinned broadly; his teeth were glistening and white but just a little crooked. He was good-looking yet intimidating in the same breath. "Man, you have no idea how much Lola's been lovin' her car." He glanced down at the beauty in his arms. "Huh baby?"

She nodded with an enthusiastic grin but stayed silent.

"I'm gonna send Garcia up with some boys to drop off a few muscle cars from back in the day. They need restoration bad. I have buyers lined up in Mexico." Francisco shared a meaningful glance with first Marko and then David. "Same deal as before?"

David nodded. "Same deal, Francisco."

"Buenos noches," Francisco announced before turning to walk past his people.

One by one Francisco, Lola, and the others disappeared into the thick shadows around us until only one remained. He was maybe nineteen in looks but I suspected probably much older. He had a baby face and though built short and compact, I had no doubt he could do damage.

Rafael began rising into the air. "Follow me."

I threw my arms around Marko's neck and closed my eyes tightly as we began rising in unison.

* * *

The house in Laurel Canyon was constructed in the Spanish style and built into the side of a hill. Jasmine spilled along one wall and the back terrace overlooked all of Los Angeles. The interior was furnished with the best of the best with a great deal of expensive Mexican artwork. After showing us the refrigerator holding the bottled blood and the safe rooms where no sunlight could penetrate Rafael left.

No one was hungry and the bottled blood was left intact.

"How old is Rojas?" I asked Marko as we stood on the terrace staring out at the sea of lights making up the city.

He shrugged. "Around David's age from what I heard." Marko went quiet again before wiping his hands over his face as though weary.

The polite coolness with which he had treated me since we left San Diego wasn't the Marko I knew.

"You're angry with me for what I did."

Marko snorted. "Understatement of the year."

My cheeks heated at his sarcastic tone. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

"Exactly!" Marko cut me off savagely. "You shouldn't have killed your mother. In fact you don't _ever_ kill another vampire unless you have permission from David or your life is under threat!"

My heart squeezed so hard it felt as though it was being crushed into dust. "She…" I couldn't bring myself to call Janet my mother after what she'd done. "She licked me and it _was_ sexual."

He froze; his eyes stared straight ahead at the city landscape. The flex of his hands into fists before relaxing was the only move he made. "That's disgusting," Marko admitted in a raw voice. "You still should've told David before you made a move."

"Are we honestly in danger?"

Marko's anger had drained leaving him with a tired appearance once more. "Yeah we are. Go on inside. I need to be alone right now."

Rather than argue, I backed away and went inside.

Dwayne and Maria had retired along with Star. The trio had sealed themselves inside one of the safe rooms to rest for the day.

David stood before an immense stucco fireplace with Paul beside him. The pair stared at one another with such intensity I knew they were holding a silent conversation. David looked pissed and Paul surprised.

"You sure man?" Paul asked softly.

David nodded once. "Yeah. You keep me informed and if there is a problem – take care of it."

Paul shrugged before grinning at me. "Hey sister! Are you ready for a nap?"

I sighed. "Sure."

He sidled up to me and rested his long arm across my shoulders. "Let's find a room and get some shut eye."

"What about David and Marko?" I asked as Paul began steering me toward the hallway.

Paul laughed and shook his head. "They need to have a private conversation before hitting the sack."

I was emotionally and physically drained so I didn't reply.

* * *

He led me into the bedroom wing of the house. We passed the room where Star, Dwayne, and Maria took shelter. The Los Angeles pack had converted the bedrooms by bricking up the windows and installing three inch security doors which needed a digital numeric password to access. In fact, Rafael had explained the rooms had been retro-fitted with stainless steel walls sprayed on the outside with a special fire retardant designed to keep vampires alive in case of a massive wildfire… or people like Alan Frog.

Paul stopped at the next door and entered the password Rafael provided.

The door opened with a metallic click.

Leaning against the door frame, Paul gestured for me to precede him into the room. "Entrée vouz, sis."

I walked into the dark room; my eyes adjusted swiftly.

Two separate full size beds dominated the room with a few colorful, expensive paintings on the walls. Beneath our feet was cool terracotta tile of the highest quality. The room was furnished simply but well.

Paul stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind him. Once the lock engaged, he strolled past me and flung himself on the nearest bed. "Shit, I am bushed."

I stood next to the other bed feeling awkward.

He noticed in the midst of jamming a pillow beneath his head. "Best get some shut eye, girl. When we wake up David is gonna want us in the air and the hell out of here."

Chewing my bottom lip, I slowly sat on the bed opposite Paul.

"I like you, Grace," Paul stated in an affable tone of voice as his eyes met mine. "I'm only gonna say this once: If you pull the shit you did with your old lady and try to waste me, I'll rip your head clean off your shoulders." He paused at my expression of shock. "You get what I'm sayin'?"

Unable to speak, I nodded once.

He seemed satisfied. "Cool beans, sis. Nighty night."

Terrified Paul just might kill me anyway - I lay down and curled into a fetal position.

Paul's steady, even breathing was the last thing I heard as I finally drifted off.

* * *

The next evening Paul woke me and we met the others on the terrace. David simply reiterated his desire to reach Santa Carla as soon as possible. Instead of Marko taking hold of me, Paul was my chaperone in the sky.

A terror of heights kept me frozen in his arms and my eyes shut tight.

At first Paul made a few jokes, but upon feeling me quake with fear he grunted, whispered under his breath, and simply flew in silence the rest of the way.

We arrived at the compound in Santa Carla in the middle of the night. The dogs ran to greet us and Star disappeared to feed the animals. The others stood in the drive running between the two rows of cottages holding what I now knew to be a silent conversation.

The moment Star reappeared; David clapped his hands together before turning his eyes to me.

"Grace," he sighed my name as he shook his head. "You screwed up bad."

Dwayne frowned. "Killing other vampires is frowned upon unless you are defending yourself. Destroying an elder vampire's lover is beyond stupid."

Marko had his arms folded over his chest; his eyes were locked on the vicinity of my boots. The clenched jaw and frown on his lips spoke volumes about he felt regarding my actions in San Diego.

David chuckled and the sound was ice cold without any humor at all. "Thanks to your stupid little stunt with DJ X we now have to worry about another pack attacking us here with the intent of turning us to ash. Before San Diego, I was prepared to allow you the luxury of time to acclimate to becoming a vampire. With the coming shit storm, I need a more immediate solution."

I stared and my mouth finally worked. "Immediate? How immediate?"

Star had turned so pale her skin almost looked translucent in the moonlight.

"I mean tonight, Grace." David's eyes were pale blue slits. "I've devised a lesson you won't forget that will make you a vampire. Two birds with one stone…"

My stomach gurgled in warning as it clenched. "You want me to kill someone tonight?"

David stepped so close our bodies nearly touched. "Yes." He wore a cruel smirk. "I sent Laddie to pick up the perfect victim. You need to learn that family comes first – this family – and everyone else on this planet is a _very_ distant second."

I trembled.

"Laddie," David never looked away from me. "Come on out, son."

On cue Laddie came out of the darkness from the direction of Star's house. His jaw-length hair was mussed, his clothes were askew, and he was sporting a massive black eye. Though the bruise was fresh it was already starting to heal.

He grunted and began dragging another figure into the light…

Jessica.

My heart seized as Jessica – bound hand and foot – screamed behind the gag in her mouth while fighting Laddie like a she-demon. He growled and tossed Jessica. She bounced and rolled until she landed squarely at David's feet.

"Had a little trouble, huh?" Dwayne teased while boasting a proud grin as though Laddie had bagged a buck during deer hunting season.

Laddie shrugged and began straightening his clothes. "The bitch sucker punched me. I guess I had it coming for not paying attention."

Maria studied him fondly. "Go over to our place. We have a bottle of blood in the refrigerator. I can't have you watching Grace's shop while looking like we beat you."

He looked to David for approval.

David gave him a grave nod. "Go ahead. You did good, kid."

Laddie shoved his hands in his jean pockets and began walking toward Dwayne and Maria's cottage.

The moment he disappeared into the darkness, David flashed a cold smile at me. "Time is wasting Grace. You know what we are and you know what you are. Now I just need you to seal the deal. Jessica here is an impediment to your growth."

Tears came to my eyes. "She doesn't know anything, David. Please let her go. Jessica doesn't deserve this."

"Deserve?" Marko fairly spat the word before shaking his head. "Girl, whether someone deserves to be drained or not isn't the point at the moment." He leaned close and settled his chin on my shoulder. "David is head vampire, you are his blood. When David asks you to do something, you do it."

David raised one eyebrow. "I couldn't have put it any better if I tried. Loyalty, Grace, is what I expect from you. Trust is another big one. Care to explain, Paul?"

Paul's eyebrows lifted and he scratched at his temple. "See, nobody trusts you right now. Killing your old lady was kind of a deal breaker. What's to stop you as a half-vampire from pulling the same bullshit you did in San Diego? You could draw that little cross on any one of our heads while we're sleeping."

"I won't…"

"Damn straight," Dwayne stated in a deadly soft voice. "As soon as you're fully one of us it is gonna prove nigh impossible. We'll be able to tell if you're up to any garbage." He pointed at his temple.

David gave a nod. "I can read you more often than not but the others… it's difficult. Once our blood is fully linked we'll be able to keep a much better eye on you."

I swallowed the bile leaking up into the back of my throat. "Please not Jessica. Anybody but her."

"It has to be her," David retorted with no emotion. "She might not have known what we were before but she does now. Jessica has got to go and you have to be the one to do it."

"No," I shook my head. "I can't kill her."

Marko rested his forehead against my ear. "Trust me when I tell you if you don't what happens next will be the biggest regret of your immortal life."

David reached down and yanked the squealing, struggling Jessica into a kneeling position. "If I have to kill this woman, I promise it will be slow and painful. I will make sure the sight and sound is something you never forget. Remember Grace – forever for us is _real_."

Star had covered her face with both hands; her shoulders shook as though weeping.

"Star can't help you," David pronounced with gravity. "Kill Jessica or watch me rip her apart so slowly she'll beg you with her eyes to finish her off."

The horrifying reality of my situation – and Jessica's – was clear. There was no doubt in my mind David was going to do exactly what he promised.

My face was awash in tears and snot as I wept openly. "I don't know what to do."

For just a fraction of a second David's face reflected regret; his eyes almost sad. I blinked and he was once again cool and unmovable as if chiseled from granite. "All you have to do is think about how hungry you are. I know you must be starved." The sound of his voice was hypnotic as he continued, "Just give in to the feeling, Grace."

His words drew something dormant in me to the surface. I was hungry for a type of nourishment that was unspeakable.

David traced one nail along Jessica's throat; just hard enough to draw blood.

Pain exploded in my gut and I doubled over. My body grew hot and achy like I had a fever; my stomach was cramping and releasing so hard I was nearly out of breath. The smell of Jessica's skin drew me in and below the salt of her perspiration and the floral perfume she favored was another scent… dark, luscious, piquant as copper, and deep as fine wine.

Something animalistic ascended inside of me and morality ceased along with cogent thought.

I wanted, no _needed_ to gnaw through flesh to reach the liquid within…

* * *

My mouth and hands were covered with a hot, sticky fluid. The stench of blood was in my nose and the taste of copper on my tongue. I looked down.

Jessica was in a heap at my feet with her brown eyes wide with terror; a gash severed her carotid. There was little blood seeping from the wound. She was paper white and I knew instinctively Jessica was dead.

She was dead and it was my fault.

I wanted to cry but I was too high to manage. I've never done drugs but how I felt in the moment was what I imagined an acid trip might be like. The stars seemed to pulse and throb in the sky as though trying to touch the earth, the pounding of the waves against the beach was louder than an artillery shell landing, the smell of blood, skin, salt air, and grass melded into a perfume that sent my senses into madness.

The fact Jessica's lifeblood was in me made me want to vomit but my satisfied belly would not cooperate.

Marko pushed the hair from my eyes. "You made the right decision. It doesn't feel that way now but you did."

David looked down at the corpse before glancing at Dwayne and Maria. "Get rid of the body. Grace is traumatized enough for tonight. Paul, come get Grace and get her settled for the night."

Paul pulled me to my feet and steered me past the statue-still figure of Star. He marched me straight to his place without saying a word. The cottage was definitely a bachelor pad. There was a set of drums in the living room, DVD's stacked everywhere, LPs from Hard Rock groups hanging on the wall like artwork, and well-worn, comfortable furniture.

He walked me past a cocker spaniel that growled with menace. Paul laughed. "Don't be a shithead, Butch."

I was gently steered down the hall to the bathroom. Unlike Marko's, Paul simply had a huge walk in shower of natural stone and a rain head. I stood shivering in the center of the room.

Paul sighed and shook his head. "You look like hell. Just a sec." He disappeared and returned minutes later with a wad of cloth in his hands. "Here – it's my shirt but it's clean. It'll be good enough to sleep in for the day. Star and Maria will get their hands on some clothes for you." Paul scratched under his chin. "Come on out when you're done."

I jumped when he slammed the door behind him.

The light wasn't on but I didn't need it. I could see _everything_ in the minutest detail. My hands shook as I stripped off my bloodstained clothes; the fabric sticking to my skin. I wadded up my jeans and sweater before shoving the bundle into Paul's trash.

I started the water and stepped under the warm jet. Rust-colored drops began spattering the stone floor. This wasn't my blood… it was _Jessica's_ blood. Maybe I had started to forget her because of the vampire blood before she came to Santa Carla. Now I would never forget the terror in her eyes as she lay huddled at David's boots.

As her blood was washed away, I sank to the stone floor sobbing.

* * *

Paul was sprawled on his sofa scratching Butch behind the ears while he listened to _Stairway to Heaven_. He jumped up and rubbed his mouth before shrugging. "I know this shit sucks, Grace. It sounds like a bullshit platitude but I swear it's true – one day you're gonna get over tonight."

I wanted to cry but I had wept in the shower until my eyes swelled and no tears would come. All I could do was stare at him in response since my throat was swollen up. Paul's shirt covered me at least and brushed my knees so I felt somewhat decent.

He approached and gestured with his head to the hall.

I shuffled after him.

There was a storage room across from the bathroom and at that spot in the ceiling was a door to the attic. He grabbed the pull and the retractable stairs slid down smoothly. "I'll go first so I'm not seeing something I shouldn't."

A few seconds later Paul reached down and pulled me up.

This was a windowless attic designed as a massive bedroom. The door with the retractable stairs was steel boasting several locks. Paul closed the door and locked it up before standing.

He spread his arms. "What'ya think?"

A king-size mattress and box spring swathed in deep blue sheets was in the center of the room. The ceiling and rafters was crafted from cedar and oak. Gray Berber carpet covered the floor and three massive body pillows were stacked in a corner. On the ceiling above the bed was a life-size black and white poster of a topless Cindy Crawford.

I looked at him and he chuckled.

"Sorry," he cleared his throat. "I don't usually have guests."

"I can take the pillows…"

He snorted. "Not likely. Take the bed, girl. Get some sleep. I'll take the pillows."

Retreating, I crawled onto the bed before collapsing. The sun was rising; I could feel it as I weakened. My eyes fluttered closed but the last image I had was of Paul falling backward onto the plush pile of pillows.

* * *

The next update will be 1/7/18

mierda de toro - bullshit  
Vete a la chingada - go to hell


	19. Chapter 19

_Thanks to those who reviewed: J Berry Smith, LostInSantaCarla3, Erzsebeth Bathory, galwidanatitud, Guest, Chantal, I'm sorry, Liz, xXx Tinkies xXx, and LauRa-ReaDinG-XoX_

* * *

Paul was gone when I woke up.

I moved to the open staircase leading to the lower level and felt nervous before gathering up the tattered remains of my courage. Instead of climbing down, I simply imagined my body on the floor below. Wind rose up from nowhere and in the next instant I stood on the hallway floor.

Voices murmured from the living room and I followed the sound.

Paul was smoking a joint and chatting quietly with David in front of the brick fireplace. Seated on the couch and looking terribly nervous was Star. She glanced in my direction before rising. Her eyes pleaded with me for understanding.

Dangling from Star's left hand was a canvas bag. She stepped closer and held it out like an offering. "I brought you some clothes. Maria and Dwayne just left to clean out your trailer."

Rather than argue, I managed a smile and took the bag. "Thank you."

"You'll be staying with me," David stated. "I left a message for your landlord and explained you'll need to break the lease early after some health issues."

I imagined the elderly Mr. Shillman wasn't pleased.

David laughed. "I've known Sheldon since 1949 – he'll be happy to do whatever I ask."

The fact David had the face of a twenty-one or twenty-two year old and had known another person for sixty-seven years was just as disconcerting as the fact he read my mind with ease. Star looked away from me while Paul just grinned.

"How old are you?" My voice almost broke on the question.

He shrugged. "As a vampire or with human years tacked on?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I mean how old are you in total?"

David studied me closely before reaching out and stealing the joint from Paul's fingers. The other vampire gave a snort of disgust before opening his jacket and searching his pockets. Inhaling deeply, David held the smoke in his lungs before exhaling bluish-gray fog. "I was twenty-two when Max turned me in 1906. You do the math."

David was _one hundred and thirty-two years old._

I looked to Star. "And you?"

A chilly laugh escaped David. "Now asking a lady her age is just plain rude, Grace."

"It's okay," she assured him in a calm voice. "I'm forty-seven."

Part of me was sorry for Star that she would be eighteen forever in appearance. The fact she was older than me but looked like a teen was just as mind-twisting as David and the others. Why I was picked to be inducted into their family was a mystery aside from Star and Marko's interest in me and I wasn't able to understand.

David finished the joint and flicked the dying roach into the fireplace. "Becoming a vampire may have stopped the clock on our bodies aging but our minds still mature. Collectively we may look young and we enjoy good times like anyone in their early twenties does. That being said, none of us has much in common with teens or the college age crowds." He leaned a shoulder against the fireplace mantel. "Most mortals that age are annoying at best."

Paul laughed. "There are some exceptions." His gaze slid to Star and he winked.

"Beyond Star and Marko's request, I picked you precisely because you had a career and talent. Most important," David almost smiled. "You didn't want to live forever."

I was startled by his comment. "That doesn't make sense."

"No?" he asked lazily. "Most mortals dying to join the club have disturbing ideas of morality… like your dearly departed mother. There was a reason Max rejected her. I don't agree on a whole helluva lot with my sire but he has a nose for people and he passed it on to me."

"Morality?" I echoed in a hollow voice. "Considering the fact you kidnapped my best friend, brought her to Santa Carla, and forced me to murder her I don't think you get to pass judgment on morals."

David chuckled. "Is that so? Well, I most certainly do when it comes to potential new vamps in my city. Most humans chasing immortality are conceited, self-absorbed, and have no regard for anyone else. When humans are turned whatever nastiness is sitting in the back of their pea brain is only exacerbated by the change. I prefer humans not interested in eternal life – they tend not to be psychotic narcissists."

"But you murder…"

Star's voice was gentle yet firm. "We kill to stay alive. Once in a while if someone pisses us off we might play with our food. Most of the time we choose people lacking the ability to survive in the world: the dying, the weak, and the elderly. Other times we pick our meals from the criminal element. There is a difference."

"Well said," David's face was suffused with pride. "Go get dressed Grace. Paul needs to get to work and you'll be spending the evening with me and Marko."

I took the bag and retreated to the bathroom.

* * *

The jeans and black crew neck sweater in the bag proved to be a little loose but I was completely covered. Relief washed over me as I left Paul's house and met David and Marko as they stood close to the motorcycles parked in front of Marko's house.

David gave me a nod.

"Who am I riding with?"

"Me," Marko looked in my direction for the first time since our arrival in Santa Carla. "I won't interfere if you prefer to ride with David."

The idea of spending time touching Marko made me uneasy. On one hand I was so angry I wanted to scream at him until I was hoarse. Another part of me – one my logical half now despised – yearned to run my hands over his body…

"You're going to have to learn to shield your thoughts," David wore a look of disgust. "I'm getting visuals worthy of nightmares."

Marko grinned and got on the bike. He held out his hand. "Come on, girl. We need to get going."

I took his hand and slid on the motorcycle behind him. My arms wrapped around his middle with practiced ease.

"Ready?" He half-turned his face to mine.

I nodded.

Marko gunned the engine at the same time David did. We peeled out with such force gravel flew as the bike's wheels sought purchase. The air whipped at us as we flew up the drive, out the opening gate, and onto the blacktop.

The world rushed by in a near blur as Marko and David raced one another up the road. Cool air slapped me and I realized suddenly that I wasn't honestly _cold_. Santa Carla in December isn't exactly warm and while I felt a temperature difference the chill I should have felt as a human was missing.

I buried my face in the back of Marko's neck for the rest of the ride. Marko's scent calmed me and lulled me into a strange sense of well-being. Worry seemed to fall away leaving me feeling surprisingly light.

Only once the bike slowed did I sit up and look around.

We were in front of Smith Bros. Garage. David stopped and got off his bike to open the gate before flagging Marko through. We drove through slowly before parking. David followed and soon the three of us were in the building.

David flicked on the lights and stretched before pulling off his jacket. He tossed the article of clothing onto a nearby chair before stalking toward the back of the building. "Take a load off, Grace."

Marko shrugged off his own jacket and tossed it on top of David's before looking at me. "David and I have an order we need to work so it's gonna be a long night. Are you hungry?"

My jaw set and I looked away.

He laughed outright. "Calm down, girl! I mean human food, not blood."

I wiped a hand over my face. "Sure, I could eat."

Marko crossed the room to a bench holding a MacBook and a phone. He plopped onto the stool and fired the computer up. "What'ya think? Pizza or Chinese?"

"Umm…" I shrugged. "Pizza is good."

He chuckled. "Pizza is the dinner of champions. Good call."

"Can I ask you a question?"

Marko's face turned serious. "Go ahead."

I hesitated before plunging into the void. "How often will I have to… kill people?"

He raised one eyebrow but remained silent.

"That depends," David replied as he reappeared in the room carrying tools. "Every vampire feeds differently. On average you should feed twice a month to maintain control over yourself. Max, for example, hunts once a month and doesn't bother with bottled blood but he's an elder. The elders have much better self-control."

"What about you?"

David laughed as he rounded the shell of a 1950's Ford in the center of the garage. "Twice a month like clockwork, sister. Everyone in our pack hunts twice a month. Paul will teach you the ropes and I'll supplement your knowledge. Eventually you won't need a teacher and you'll be able to hunt on your own."

I didn't really want to think about it.

Looking past me, David jerked his chin toward Marko. "Pizza, huh? Don't try to sneak any anchovies like you did the last time."

Marko snorted as he typed his order into the Dominoes website. "Testy bastard – fish is good for you."

David frowned and shook his head. "I'm getting started. Grace, you're probably gonna be bored this evening. Find a way to amuse yourself – surf the internet or whatever."

"Can I go work at my shop?"

He paused in mid-crouch to slide beneath the car. There was a glint in his eye as he regarded me. "I don't think so. Not tonight anyway. With DJ X up our asses we need to stick together. Dwayne is working from Maria's gallery with Star and Laddie."

"That leaves Paul alone," I pointed out.

David went under the car. "Don't remind me. Paul knows how I feel about him working from the radio station. Starting tomorrow night Paul's going to have you in tow."

"I don't know shit about fighting vampires."

Marko laughed as he finished the order and turned on the stool so we faced one another. "You're a quick learner – look at what you did to dear old Mom. I'm sure you'll be fine and Paul knows how to handle himself in a fight; trust me on that."

Anger surged to life inside me like a raging volcano. "You know what, Marko? Fuck you. I did what I did to save my mother – that _thing_ took her over." I headed for the door. "I'm sick of your damn attitude!"

Ripping the door open, I stepped outside and slammed it shut behind me.

I was pacing back and forth madly in the vain attempt to burn off energy. I wanted to cry and scream. The love I felt for Marko prior to becoming a vampire still existed – despite his perfidy – even while I was pissed at how coldly he now behaved.

The door opened gently and I stopped in my tracks.

"He loves you," David stood blocking the door while lighting a cigarette. "Marko isn't the most demonstrative." The sound of a loud bang from inside echoed followed by several lesser clangs. "I've known him a long time and he's never felt like this before about a woman."

I raked my hands through my hair. "He constantly reminds me about my mother. I don't think he's ever going to let it go."

Exhaling a cloud of smoke, David smirked. "Marko will get over it in time. He's trying to square the woman he fell in love with and the vampire you are now. They are different entities and yet the same. It takes a little getting used to – just like you're having trouble adjusting to his true nature. Accepting change takes time."

"Aren't you quite the sage?" The bitterness in my voice bled through despite my best efforts.

He laughed. "That'll be the wisdom which comes with _years_ of experience. One day you'll be the same." David reached in his pocket and pulled out a ten dollar bill. He extended the money to me. "Give the delivery driver a tip when he gets here. Don't come in until the pizza arrives. The two of you need to cool off." With that, he crushed out his cigarette before heading back inside.

Releasing a sigh, I fell back against the door and simply waited.

* * *

The three of us devoured the pizza like a pack of starving wolves. Marko and David did most of the talking with the occasional comment or grunt from me. We washed down the pizza with bottles of Corona from the refrigerator in the garage's office. The rest of the evening I read a truly excellent _Pride and Prejudice_ fanfiction story on the internet.

The clang of metal on metal, the smell of hot steel mixed with oil, and the feel of Marko's eyes on me was the accompaniment I had.

Finally David threw his wrench on a nearby work bench. "Time to blow this joint. We need to get home before the sun rises."

Marko tossed David's jacket to him before pulling on his own. "Sounds good to me." He glanced in my direction. "You ready, girl?"

I nodded and turned off the computer before following them out of the garage.

* * *

When we arrived back at the compound David parked beside Marko in front of his cottage. The pair had another of their silent conversations before David cocked an eyebrow and turned away. He scratched at his jaw.

"You sure?"

Marko gave a long, slow nod.

David looked to me. "You'll be sleeping here today."

"With Marko?" I questioned archly.

Marko was completely expressionless.

David chuckled. "Yeah – with Marko." He pointed between the two of us while walking backward. "Now you two lovebirds be good."

I was fuming as David continued to walk away and began whistling a familiar, old-fashioned tune - _'Walkin' After Midnight'_ by Patsy Cline.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Marko's voice washed over me.

I turned in place and crossed my arms over my chest. "No, of course not."

He walked to the house and opened the door before leaning against the doorframe. A cocked eyebrow and his outstretched hand indicated I should enter. My body caused a breeze that ruffled the curtain as I passed.

Marko followed and locked up tight behind us. "You sure as hell are tense."

"I know," I responded.

He circled me before shaking his head. "I wouldn't hurt you. I said as much and I meant it."

Disbelief colored my features as I watched him. "Marko… Marko," I whispered his name. "You already hurt me more than you can comprehend."

Marko's gaze softened before a muscle in his jaw clenched then released. He headed for the hallway and I followed. He opened the steel door leading to the wine cellar and indicated I should precede him inside.

The stairs were narrow but surprisingly sturdy and well-built. The floor of the cellar was stone as were the walls and the ceiling was fairly low – I don't believe Paul or Dwayne could have stood upright. Marko had at least fifteen locks running up and down the length of the door and he secured all of them.

I finished perusing the room.

He had a king-size bed set against the wall in the center of the room swathed in scarlet sheets. On the walls above the bed was a framed black and white photo of a Harley Davidson motorcycle from the 1950's. There was an open cedar closet built into another wall and all his clothes were stashed there in surprisingly good order. On another wall a jacket was presented as art in a closed plexi-glass frame.

I strolled over and my stomach dropped into the vicinity of my knees.

The jacket _was_ a piece of art: colorful patches covered the entire body of the jacket. Skulls, numbers, a girl, a swatch of faux leopard skin, tassels, and other assorted symbols.

The dream I had about being a child in Max's video store and talking to Marko while he wore this jacket was no dream. Horror washed over me and I was speechless.

Marko was suddenly beside me staring at the jacket with a fond expression.

"When did you choose me?"

He turned in my direction. "What are you talking about, Grace?"

I reached out and tapped the case. "I remember you now. I met you when I was nine at Max's video store on the pier."

Marko's expression was stone cold. "I'm a lot of things, Grace. A pedophile ain't one of 'em. I don't even prey on kids for blood – none of us do. Sure, I talked to you 'cause I thought you were a funny kid. There wasn't anything else to it."

I raked my hands over my face. "I don't know what to think anymore."

He rested his shoulder against the wall. "Don't shut me out, girl. We have something special. I don't wanna lose you."

Emotion warred within me: anger, betrayal, fear, love, desire, and distrust.

Marko studied me closely before jerking his thumb toward the massive bed. "You go ahead and take the bed for today."

"Where are you going to sleep?"

He pointed at a long steel bar running the length of the ceiling.

I backed toward the bed while staring at the ceiling with Marko following me at a leisurely pace. "I don't understand." The back of my knees hit the mattress and I collapsed back against the bed.

Marko took off his boots. "You will." In a movement worthy of an acrobat, he jumped and his feet transformed into clawed things reminiscent of that of a bat. The claws caused an eerie metallic screech as he slowly swung back and forth on the bar.

I gazed up at him and our eyes met and held.

For a long time we just looked at one another until finally the power of the sun held sway and we each fell into deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

The sun had gone down.

I was swimming back into consciousness when I felt a pair of arms wrapped around me. The body wrapped around mine was incredibly masculine. Instantly my eyes flew open…

Marko was no longer hanging from the bar. He was on the bed curled around me with his face buried in my neck.

I couldn't force myself to disturb him. Instead I relaxed and let my hand glide up his arm. Was it wrong to feel a moment of contentment? He and Star were the authors of this new, unwanted existence. Yet I wanted to enjoy the sensation of peace I felt with him.

Jessica's dead face suddenly loomed in my mind…

"Don't," Marko rasped against my ear. "Baby, don't do this to yourself."

"I can't help it. How can I not think about what I did?"

He reached up and smoothed my hair. "I understand what you're going through."

My heart squeezed. "How can you?"

Marko lifted his head and stared me in the eye. "My first kill was my own damn father. I still see him with his throat torn out…" He shook his head. "Over the years memories of your mortal life are going to fade away but you won't ever forget that first kill. I ran away and David and Dwayne found me on the streets in San Francisco. They played me, screwed with my mind, and tested me in every possible way before David slipped me Max's blood. I didn't know what the hell was going on."

I was fascinated by his words and listened in silence.

"I was an oblivious half-vampire when my father found me." Marko snorted. "David warned me to stay away from him but I was a dumbass and let Dad take me home. I killed him the same night."

"How do you live with it?" I asked softly.

He gave a weary sigh. "I focused on the fact my father died so I could live forever. Every night I make the most of it. Do you think Jessica would want you to mourn for time without end?"

I considered the question.

Jessica was full of life – always active and happy – I knew she would be pissed at what I did to her but she would have been disappointed her death was for nothing.

"No," I responded slowly. "I think she would want me to be a good person and find some kind of happiness."

Marko nodded. "Try to keep that in mind. It'll help in the long run."

Without thought my hand moved to stroke his hair. "How old are you really?"

He laughed and kissed my temple. "You are obsessed."

"I'm just curious."

Marko fell back against the pillow. "I'm eighty-three. David made me in 1955. I'm old enough to be your grandpa so take that, girly."

Despite the serious nature of our conversation, I laughed. I'd been so worried when Marko and I first met that I being much older was taking advantage of his relative youth. The entire time it was the other way around. It felt good to feel something other than anger and sorrow. I laughed until tears rolled down my cheeks and I buried my face in Marko's chest; feeling him laugh with me.

Things weren't going to be right for a long time but a feeling surged through me that one day I was going to be whole again. Hope filled my heart and I felt beautifully, fully alive.

What more can a girl ask for?

* * *

This is the final chapter of _To The Shock of Miss Grace_ but it is not her final story. I'm currently writing a sequel from David's POV to be published February 4th. This will be a David/Star story but will feature Grace and Marko as well. Please be on the lookout for it titled _Midnight._ Thanks to each and every one of you who supported me and the story along the way.


End file.
